


Coveted

by Maleficent_of_the_Moors



Series: Human Nature [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Adult Content, Adultery, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Forgiveness, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Love, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, MIND THE TAGS!, Mild Language, Multi, Post-Series, Potential Triggers, TW: Emotional Hurt, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-04-18 17:31:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 75,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4714430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maleficent_of_the_Moors/pseuds/Maleficent_of_the_Moors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falling prey to the cruel whims of fate, Edward took it upon himself to break the promise he had made to Winry at the train station. Years later, the young woman finds herself in a love triangle with Alphonse, her husband, and Edward, who's just traipsed back into her life causing old feelings to resurface.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ONE

**Author's Note:**

> Hello dear reader! **I just want to let you know that I created a new Tumblr blog.**[The new blog](http://hirstories.tumblr.com) consolidates all work from my active accounts. Everything is in one convenient place!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home life and bittersweet farewells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I’m better known as Le Confidant in FMA fanfic circles. I decided to use a new pen name to post those stories of mine that are strong in nature (like this one).
> 
> To my readers, you might want to subscribe to this account to receive updates because I won’t be alerting in Tumblr nor Facebook. 
> 
> Chapter uploads for _Coveted_ will occur every two Thursdays, starting September 3rd. I will alert you if there’s any changes to this rule.

A cool breeze rolled across the vast sea of green encompassing Resembool. It rattled through grass blades and trees alike. The breeze kept moving, sweeping over pastures and small ponds, until it reached a yellow house crowning one of the hills. The cool air then mingled with soft tunes emanating from the abode. The environment inside was as exuberant as it was outside.

From the top of the shelf, a wooden radio played ballads. On the ground, an apple pie reached perfection inside a state-of-the-art oven. And over by the double sink, Winry Rockbell—automail mechanic, wife, and amateur baker—hummed the lyrics of the tune as she finished tidying up the place.

Winry dried her hands while she shot a look at the timer. The black ticker was just a minute shy from going off. She left the towel on top of the counter and walked over to the oven. Perfumed heat greeted her as soon as she pulled the wooden handle halfway down. She braved the high temperature as she examined the apple pie. The crust looked golden, but it was the heavenly scent of cinnamon and caramelized apples that let Winry know that the dessert was ready. She turned the oven off. A ball of heat engulfed Winry when she pulled the door wide open. She escaped the small inferno when she moved away to grab the oven mitts. Winry embraced the gloves, then the heat, as she took the piping-hot baked good from the metal rack.

The ambrosial aroma emanating from the pie swirled all around her as she moved across the kitchen. Winry set the pie by the window then took a step back, admiring the apple pie as one would admire a painting at a museum. A smile grew on her face. Local products and a pinch of imagination went into her latest creation. If the pie tastes as good as it smelled then turning Gracia’s tried—and—true formula into a new recipe was something worth of praise.

A loud thud startled Winry, she looked up when she heard another one. She shot a look at the kitchen clock, the hands pointed at four and nine.

“It’s that late?” Winry shook her head. Her thoughts shifted to Alphonse, who was cooped upstairs since noon. He wasn’t doing research nor conducting experiments, Alphonse was preparing the bags for his trip to Xing. At the break of dawn, he would take the 5:05 to Ishval, the transfer point for the Eastern Express.

The Eastern Express was the brainchild of Brigadier General Mustang along with some members of the brand new Ishvalan ministry. The clever initiative helped to boost both the economy of the emerging country and Mustang’s military career. The new service was a godsend too. The new locomotive could traverse the desert faster than with the best of horses. The Eastern Express was convenient, Winry wasn’t denying that fact, still, the train was taking her Alphonse away. For two long months it was going to be just her and Den the Second since Granny—heaven’s rest her soul—had passed away a couple of years ago.

Winry’s brow tensed. She looked around at the stillness surrounding her and a shiver ran up her spine.

“Al…” Winry worried her lip—

She already missed him.

But Winry didn’t wallow in poignant sentiments for long because getting depressed was inane. There were many reasons not to succumb to negative emotions, like the tons of automail commissions that awaited her. She had quite a workload enough to keep her sufficiently distracted until Alphonse’s return. If for some reason the sting of loneliness became too much to bear, she could rely on good company to ease the pain. There was Nelly and Pitt, childhood friends and old schoolmates; there was Mr. and Mrs. Cook, Granny’s friends who always took time to come and visit; and of course there was Amanda, the grocer’s daughter who had an interest in automail engineering. If push came to shove, and if being within four walls became unpleasant, Winry knew she could take a cue from Alphonse and travel. She was but one train ticket away from Rush Valley. Thinking about how Mr. Garfiel and Paninya would react when they see her, put a grin on her face. Thoughts of the Engineer’s Heaven scrambled away when Alphonse’s shouting reached her ears. Winry left the kitchen and headed to the hallway.

“What is it, Al?” Winry called from the base of the stairs.

“Is the pie ready?”

Her eyebrows twitched. Why must that man only think about food! She rolled her eyes, “yes, Al! come down!”

“In a moment! I’m almost done packing!”

Winry sighed. “Okay!” She took one step back then turned on a heel.

Winry went back to the kitchen and begun plating dinner but not before removing the pie from the window.

 

 

Alphonse wrapped his strong arms around Winry’s slim waist, capturing her in a warm embrace.

“Dinner was delicious as always.” His words caressed her ear and painted a smile on her mouth.

The warmth of his torso flushed against her back made Winry hum. It also prevented her from threading upstairs. She turned around only to meet with Alphonse’s affection. His tender expression always knew how to conquer her heart. Winry contemplated his mesmerizing eyes (now colored in beautiful shade of peridot) until her cheeks turn pink, only then, she broke away from his embrace.

“You’re obsessed with food Al, you know that, right?” Winry teased, putting Alphonse on the spotlight. “It’s amazing you are not all pudgy with the way you eat.” She grinned, and even went as far as poking his firm stomach.

“Hey!” Alphonse gasped, faking offense. His olive eyes narrowed a little, just before a mischievous grin spread across his face. He was wearing _the face_ , the one that gave Winry butterflies in the stomach.

“Is that so?" Alphonse swept Winry off her feet, making her squeak in surprise.

Winry’s cheeks flamed and she looked away. Alphonse chuckled thinking she looked beautiful—and sexy. He coaxed her to look his way and planted a tender kiss on her lips before carrying her the rest of way to the master bedroom.

One small kick to the door made it swing open. Winry frowned at the action and Alphonse grinned and all was forgotten when he laid her on the bed. Winry glanced at the window and watched how the white curtains danced with the breeze. The soft orange glow of the setting sun made the room look inviting. It also provided just enough visibility for Winry to capture Alphonse’s beauty as he leaned over her.

“You know, not being able to eat for years can have that effect on a man,” he joked, going back to playful teasing.

“Besides…” Alphonse lost the thread of the conversation. He couldn’t help it, the dimples forming on Winry’s face distracted him. To him, Winry was like a goddess—beautiful, powerful and sensual—and right now, it was her luscious lips the object of his adoration…it would be a darn shame not to taste them.

Without wasting another second, Alphonse pressed his lips against hers, capturing the lower edge and sucking at it as he deepened the kiss. Winry moaned into his eager mouth. The soft noise made Alphonse etch a smile against her lips. He pulled back and studied her face in detail before speaking.

“There is nothing in this world more delicious than you,” he crooned. The heartfelt confession made her blush deepen.

The bed creaked; Alphonse held his weight with both arms while a powerful leg slid between hers. He shifted his weight again, and this time, an impish hand rode up the delicate skirt of the dress, gathering the fabric around her hips. The mischievous hand glided down an exposed thigh and was now coaxing his wife to open herself for him.

Winry’s eyes smiled. She wrapped her arms around Alphonse’s strong neck and craned hers up. Her lips latched onto his but Alphonse broke the kiss. He wanted to dive into her ocean eyes, weaving his chi with hers before taking things further. Her lips stuck out in protest and the innocent expression made Alphonse’s heart flutter.

“Stop teasing.” Winry pulled him down by the shirt when she got tired of looking at his goofy grin. Her hands moved to his belt but Alphonse moved them away, offering his help.

 

* * *

 

Winry tucked her hands inside the pockets of her leather jacket. Dawn gave them a rather cold welcome. To make matters worse, she was sleep deprived. Her sleep had been light and full with shapeless images and dark emotions that had left her insomniac and disturbed. The episode had been so severe that she ended waking Alphonse an hour earlier than planned.

Sometime during their light breakfast, Winry asked Alphonse if they could walk to the train station instead of taking the car. He had granted her request behind a tired yet loving smile. Now they were on the road, walking at a snail’s pace, as they made their way to the rural train station.

 

 

Downtown Resembool resided at the foot of the rolling hills and it currently slumbered under the foggy mantle of the early morning. The murk did a splendid job of hiding everything from sight.

Winry sighed before returning her attention to Alphonse. Her brows furrowed when she noticed that his expression remained as just as lost as when they stepped out of the house. Alphonse was so deep in thought that he didn’t feel the burning glare directed at him. His unresponsiveness made Winry bristle. Winry rolled her eyes at him before paying attention to the road. The desolate trail reminded Winry about their inevitable separation; her bad mood returned. She looked at Alphonse from the corner of her eyes, secretly wishing that the time spend apart went by fast.

 

 

Resembool hadn’t changed much in the past few decades so it wasn’t surprising to find the train station almost devoid of human presence. Winry chose to sit on the bench to the far left of the platform. The bench on the opposite side brought memories that were best to forget.

At least the thick fog was lifting; Winry could now see the train tracks as they curved towards the horizon. The bleats of sheep herding on a nearby pasture distracted her. The hoofed animals reminded Winry that the Annual Sheep Festival was just around the corner. Soon the rural town was going to burst into life with tourists pouring in from all over Amestris.

This year’s festivities included a traveling show faring from Creta. “A spectacle like no other!” was being advertised all over the radio waves. It saddened Winry that Alphonse wasn’t going to be around for the event.

A loud horn broke through the thinning mist.

The sound startled Winry since she didn’t see the large engine moving along the tracks. She squinted, scanning the horizon. This time around, she distinguished the thick plume of the locomotive from the fog. Winry turned to Alphonse who remained quiet (and quite removed from his surroundings). She bit her lower lip.

“Do you really have to go?” The lash riding along with the question cut through his deep reflection.

Alphonse blinked himself to awareness. His eyes now focused on Winry, who was biting her lip hard. His shoulders slumped from the force of an exhale.

He donned a forced smile as he pushed himself upright. His hand reached out to Winry and cupped a soft cheek.

“I have to go Winry.” His eyes flickered with melancholy. “This is an important trip for me otherwise I would’ve stayed here with you—please understand.”

Alphonse ran a thumb across a high cheekbone capturing a lone tear that escaped the ocean of her eyes.

“I’ll be back soon, promise,” he added, his smile turned loving.

Winry looked away. “I know,” she whispered, resignation drowning her voice—

The public address system whined and the announcement to board the train crackled through the speakers. Alphonse and Winry contemplated each other in silence as the train pulled into the platform.

The train screeched to a halt.

Alphonse kissed Winry goodbye then leaned to the side to pick up his carry-on luggage. He walked towards the train car but stopped midway. When he turned around, he came across with a sad expression. He took a deep breath.

“We’ll try again,” Alphonse blurted out when he exhaled; his words caught her immediate attention. “When I get back from Xing we’ll try again. I have high hopes that this time we’ll succeed.”

Alphonse held his gaze while he spoke, knowing well that Winry wasn’t prepared to confront the subject. And just as he anticipated, Winry stood still on the platform, with wide eyes and her breath catching. Right away, Alphonse regretted speaking his mind. The quiet accusation painted on Winry’s face made him hide behind a rueful grin.

Alphonse felt like apologizing, but he feared that doing so would only make things worse. He turned around and entered the train car quietly. Once inside, he ignored his nagging conscience and focused on getting acclimated to the stuffy car. He placed the luggage in the overhead compartment but not before taking out a textbook on alchemy, one that was written by an authority on the subject. He sat down and moved next to the window. Alphonse saw that his wife (and her upset frown) was still at the train station. As always, she dutifully waited for his departure and it made his heart ache. Without a second thought, Alphonse pushed the window pane open and stuck his head outside the car.

“I love you.” He made sure to pour his heart and soul into those three words. He remained true to his declaration even if it sounded like an apology.

Winry didn’t even flinch.

Alphonse was beginning to feel like an idiot so he decided to shut up and let things be. He was about to sit back on the bench when he caught Winry’s change in expression. His own mood brightened upon laying eyes on her beaming smile.

Winry clasped her hands in front of her chest; her golden wedding band reflected the morning light. She sighed, sifting the exhale through the forced smile.

Thankfully the loud horn saved the couple from more unpleasantness.

Steel wheels begun rotating, screeching against the metal track as the pistons and the coupling rods engaged in motion.

Winry waved Alphonse goodbye and watched the train disappearing into the rising sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear reader, this is the only chapter that has lengthy notes. I don’t want to bore you with my drivel here so I decided to leave my thoughts at [Live Journal](http://le-maleficent.livejournal.com). If you’re curious about me or about the content behind my scandalous stories then look for my LJ account listed on my profile. I will always state if there’s a commentary at the end of a chapter.
> 
> I do wish to know your thoughts about my stories, so please leave a note. I cherish all comments: the good ones inspire me to keep working hard and the strict ones help me become a better writer. Trolls amuse me and make me laugh. I encourage you to leave a comment. Thanks for reading!
> 
> P.S. The story gets quite interesting after Ch.4, so hang in there!
> 
>  
> 
> [This chapter has a commentary at Live Journal.](http://le-maleficent.livejournal.com/1786.html)


	2. TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winry does a little soul-searching as she heads back home.

Winry left the train station behind, including the bitterness born out of the unpleasant farewell. Now she headed home accompanied by nothing more than the noise of her boots striking against the loose gravel. As she walked, she kicked an unsuspecting rock. The poor thing took flight, bouncing and rolling when it hit the ground. The rock clicked when it collided with another one of its kind further down the road. It seemed like the sounds of nature were the only companions Winry had on the road, and these were scarce and spread apart. Stillness moved in fast, covering all surroundings with a veil of silence. Such unnerving tranquility reminded Winry of the one that awaited her back home.

Up ahead was the first of two crossroads.

Winry slowed down as she approached the wooden sign. She crossed her arms over her chest as she read red names painted over white. She hummed; there were only two options at her disposition: she could keep going straight and take the route towards the second crossroads leading to farmlands (and thus, home), or she could go through downtown. The first choice would lead her home in half hour while the other one would get her home past ten. She looked at her watch: it was only 7:30. Winry worried her lip, staring at the sign.

_Should I rush back home?_

Den was there of course, always ready to greet her with his enthusiastic licks. Her lovable pet and loyal companion should be reason enough to come home sooner rather than later…Winry released her lip when she sighed. Logic told her that Den could wait; her thought turned to work. Rockbell Automail needed to be up and running by noon, and she needed to prep shop for the day—

She should've been on the move by now, but there she was, still staring at the sign. Why must she be so difficult? She steepled her hands, the tips of her index fingers touching her rosy lips. _Maybe I should take the long route,_ she thought. The more she kept staring at the damn sign the more inclined she was about taking the detour.

"Ah—crew it!" Winry turned to the right; downtown Resembool awaited her.

 

 

Resembool was an agricultural province so it was commonplace to see business being conducted at early morning hours. Main Street bustled with life as business owners worked on setting up shop; some were already making the first sale of the day.

As Winry walked across Main Street, she couldn't help but to think that the vein of the town had seen better days. Main Street had been the first paved road in town and it was starting to show the passing of time, with potholes and cracks claiming new portions of the once unblemished asphalt. An impressionable visitor would think that the road deterioration was due to heavy traffic when it was the drastic weather changes the culprit for the decay. Automobiles, even in that day and age, were still considered a luxury around those parts. Only the more affluent farmers owned steam-powered vehicles; she and Alphonse were a rare exception.

The enticing aroma of fresh-baked bread captured Winry's attention; her feet brought her to the bakery. Golden letters painted in neat cursive on the large window pane listed all the treats that the bakery was famous for. Winry leaned closer to the glass and saw people waiting in line to buy toasty loafs. Her stomach grumbled, seduced by the warming aroma of fresh bread, and her mouth started to water. As tempting as it was, the delicious smell wasn't powerful enough to make her to take a turn in line. Her stomach complained as she moved past the establishment.

Noises, smells and colors faded into the background as Winry walked along Main Street.

Stopping by the bakery brought her fond memories of Alphonse stuffing his mouth with doughnuts. The loving memory barely managed to draw out a smile; it didn't take much for her sink into gloom. The dark sentiment stuck to her heart like axle grease stuck to her work clothes and removing it was just as hard—

Someone crashed into Winry, making her stumble forward. She turned around, looked around then down. In front of her, a small boy and his big brown eyes were staring into her sapphire blues.

"Hi!" Winry greeted the boy with a bright smile.

The boy's eyes twinkled and the widest most beautiful smile came to his face. He bowed to her before running back to his mother, who was walking towards her. The boy called out to his mother as as he jumped into her arms. Winry's heart fluttered when the woman planted loving kisses on the boy's ruddy cheeks. She tussled the boy's dark hair before curling a hand around his. They walked past Winry and the mother offered her an apologetic smile. Winry smiled back but her smile had come out somewhat crooked.

 

 

After three blocks, Winry recognized a familiar round shape rising up from behind the Public Library; at last she reached City Hall.

If Main Street was the main vein of the down then Resembool's City Hall was its heart. And today the government building seemed busier than ever. Groups of people were going to and fro like ants at work. It made Winry wonder if the rustle had anything to do with the spring festivities.

 _The Major did say that the event was going to be spectacular,_ Winry reminded herself, and with that, shrugged her shoulders and kept walking, leaving the controlled chaos behind.

As Winry walked through downtown, her blue eyes captured slices of life in the rural town: like the old men by the park whose battle cries made tree leaves tremble as they fought for honor and victory within checkered planes of a chess board; or, like the embarrassed couple a little far head that tried to keep their purebred away from a stray; or, like the cacophony outside the terrace of the only Auregan coffee shop in town. All these scenes filled Winry with warmth and love for her place of birth. As she walked past the cafe, she took a mental note: To bring Alphonse to that place.

 _He's not a fan of strong coffee but he'll love the sweets,_ Winry mused and chuckled to herself; after all, food _was_ Alphonse's other love.

Winry was so enthused in her thoughts that she didn't notice a pack of strollers (and the women pushing them) coming her way. She barely managed to move to the side, and watched as the group strode past her. The women didn't even look at her as they pushed their babies down the street. Winry followed them with her eyes as they crossed Main Street and entered the park.

Her brow tensed and her chest constricted, and her thoughts went back to the train station, and to what Alphonse said before departing to Xing.

In Resembool, people married young and had children fast; she and Alphonse weren't an exception. Both born and raised under those presumptions couldn't wait to be carrying a little one in their arms months after they got married—eight years later and they still were waiting for their precious one to arrive. The pack of mothers heading to the park were young, even the mother of the boy who'd crashed into her earlier that morning was quite young herself. Their youth reminded Winry of the one she was leaving behind; in a few months she was going to turn thirty years old.

"Thirty and childless," she scoffed. Winry gave one long morose look at the women before leaving.

Winry walked through Main Street engrossed in thought. She was trying to find the correct words for what she was feeling.

"Hi, hon!" Winry's thoughts were disrupted by a voice calling out to her. She stopped and looked around. Her eyes widened when she spotted Mrs. Dillon walking her way.

"Hi, Mrs. Dillon, how are you today?" Winry greeted the woman with a screwed on smile.

She had wanted to say "why me?" but Gertrude Dillon had been one her late grandmother's acquaintances. Winry sustained her forced smile even though she wanted to scream.

"I'm fine my dear, just dandy," Mrs. Dillon replied as she looked at Pinako's granddaughter over her gaudy frames. She had a bad habit of sizing people up and her cold stare made Winry shudder.

"Were you at the train station?"

The arrogance in her voice and the stiff posture told Winry that the old woman was engaging in what she loved best: snooping. Winry dressed herself with patience and answered: "Yes, I was there, Mrs. Dillon. I was dropping Alphonse off."

Her answer was coated with sweetness and sprinkled with politeness and served with a wide smile, just as Pinako taught her to do when dealing with irritating people.

 _Show them who's the better person!_ Hers had been words of wisdom perfumed with tobacco and cloves.

"Heading to Xing again!" Mrs. Dillon's exaltation was as fake as her eyelashes, which were sticking to her thin eyebrows, making her look like a sad clown.

Winry clenched her jaw as she stretched her lips into a thin smile.

"Yes, Mrs. Dillon. He has some important business to tend to in the East." She answered casually, but tension still plucked her intonation. This tension was also beginning to pull at her shoulders and neck.

"Oh, that Alphonse is just like his older brother!" Gertrude clicked her tongue.

"Listen honey, what you need to do is keep that husband of yours at home so he can make you a baby. You are not getting any younger, you know—"

 _Will this woman ever shut up?_ Winry nodded mindlessly.

Gertrude's yapping was making her cringe so she tried to ignore the noise. The woman's words sounded like gibberish now that she shut Gertrude out. She was doing fine too until "don't you want to have kids?" broke the wonderful spell she was in. Contemptuous eyes narrowed at the old witch as she returned back to the moment.

Mrs. Dillon didn't seem to notice her change in expression or at least it looked that way. She continued with the drivel, talking about her great-grandchildren, about how beautiful and bright they were. She went on to babble about how fortunate the women in her family were "because motherhood blessed them".

Winry almost rolled her eyes at that last comment.

 _Curse that odious woman and her slithering tongue!_ She sighed long and hard, otherwise she would be screaming.

Winry needed to escape from Mrs. Dillon's claws. Taking a cue from that clown, Winry went for the dramatic flair. She raised her left hand, pushed back the long sleeve of her jacket and looked at her watch; her blue eyes became as big as saucers.

"Oh look at the time!" Winry cried out, cutting the old woman off. "I really have to go Mrs. Dillon—clients. I have a client coming over in half hour and I'm still stuck in downtown."

In her exalted state, Winry caught Gertrude's lips quivering; those tired edges were straining to form a word.

Oh hell no! She wasn't going to take any more verbal abuse, so before Mrs. Dillon could even form a vowel, Winry was already taking the that wrinkly old hand of hers in hers.

Winry shook it—just once.

"It was nice seeing you. Goodbye!"

One fake smile later, Winry fled from Mrs. Dillon's side. She didn't even glance over her shoulder when Gertrude asked her to stop, she kept walking as fast as she could, putting a good distance between them.

She continued the trek back home in a foul mood.

 

* * *

 

Winry sulked all the way back to the yellow house; the unlucky rocks payed for it.

She abhorred people who measure women by how many kids they can pop out of their bodies—it was the Twentieth century, an age of technology, of freedom—!

Another rock was sent flying towards the beautiful farmland backdrop.

Winry tucked her hands inside the pockets of her jacket. She sighed as her sapphire eyes got lost into the distance. She was angry, but her anger had more to do with her personal situation than about changing the way that humans thought of the supposed _fairer sex._

"Unexplained infertility" had been what the doctor labeled their dilemma.

"What kind of crud is that?" Winry complained to the wind and to the dirt road.

Both her and Alphonse seemed healthy enough, so why it hadn't happened yet still remained a mystery. And it wasn't for a lack of trying—heat rose to her cheeks.

Since the good doctor couldn't help them, they had turned to other methods. She had tried all sorts of fertility gimmicks: from traditional Amestrian remedies to weird Xinguese concoctions that Alphonse had prepared for her with love. Just thinking about _that_ ordeal made her gag (and also chuckle) but her expression imminently turned melancholic.

_Nothing has worked yet…_

It was a reality too cruel to accept.

The surroundings blurred as despair washed over her, but she didn't dwell in that sentiment for long, for she was a Rockbell and Rockbells don't break so easy.

 _If it is going to happen, it will happen,_ Winry reminded herself. The thought made her feel more optimistic but darkness still clung to her heart; its presence made her insecure.

This darkness presented something she hadn't thought of in years: true infertility. That term was taboo between her and Alphonse. She seldom touched it, fearing that the simple phrase would somehow affect their marriage. She was sure that Alphonse avoided it for the exact same reasons.

 _Now Al wants us to try again…_ Her lips turned down remembering how the last time they tried to get pregnant ended in a bitter fight that lasted for weeks—

Winry thought she heard Den barking.

She looked around and noticed that she was already at the foot of the small hill that led home. She had been so immersed in her thoughts that she lost track of her surroundings; it made her crack a nervous laugh.

The incessant barking made her completely return to the present. The sun was high now so Winry shaded her eyes as she looked towards the house. She saw a brown dot jumping up and down. Den's vigorous enthusiasm was catchy and soon her lips curled upwards. Winry cast all baby-making thoughts aside and continued the trek uphill.

Halfway there, Winry swore hearing Den barking a "welcome home".

 

 

By the time Winry opened the front door, her foul mood had completely vanished; she had to thank Den for that. His greeting had included lots of tail wagging, jumping and barking, but it was his masterful licking what slobbered away the glum that still clung to her.

Den had put her in a better mood, but unfortunately, the joyful state of mind wasn't long lasting.

It only took but a quick look at the surroundings to wipe that happiness from her face. Everything was still, and enveloped in unnerving silence, just as she expected. The tranquility put some weight on her frame and her shoulders slouched; she groaned.

Den, who had strutted towards the kitchen, turned around and returned to his sulking mistress. He sat in front of her and looked up. Den barked a "pep talk" then offered his full support when he leaned his heavy head against her thigh.

Winry couldn't help but to chuckle; leave it to Den to make things better. Her blue eyes connected with his brown globes as she petted his head. Den licked her hand, coaxing Winry to caress his head some more, and she did so with love.

"Work awaits!" Winry told Den, who stood in all fours and wagged his tail in agreement. The vocal outburst also helped Winry to shoo away the pestering silence roaming around the house.

Winry ruffled Den's ears then headed upstairs to change into her work clothes. When she came back down, she went to the kitchen.

"Be a good boy," Winry chirped to the dog before entering the automail shop through the basement entrance.

Den panted happily, his hips swung to the rhythm of his fanning tail. He waited until Winry was out of sight to treat himself to the food sitting inside a metal bowl.

 

 

Winry rolled her shoulders as she went down the stairs. Once inside the shop, she headed to the far wall where all her tools hung. She picked from the wall what she needed for the day then went to the metal table where an automail arm patiently waited to be tinkered with. Winry began working with the prosthetic while she awaited for the first client of the day to ring the doorbell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This chapter has a commentary at Live Journal.](http://le-maleficent.livejournal.com/2737.html)


	3. THREE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winry reminisces about the past after a fruitful work day.

Winry was but one bolt away from finishing adjustments to an automail arm when the doorbell rattled. She went to the door, but not before putting the metal arm away. 

She adjusted her coveralls and bandana and welcomed Jonas, the first client of the day. His maintenance turned out well and he left after giving his thanks. Winry went back to working on the arm but didn’t get far ahead with it. Apparently Jonas wasn’t the only person who decided to arrive on time. 

After the third client, Winry wondered if some strange force was at work—turning the wheels of time to her favor—because each and everyone of her clients arrived at their respective time. It was a phenomenon was something that seldom happened in her line of work. Calm procedures was another of those things that seldom happened because of the pain involved with automail handling. Winry knew how to handle this.

 _Gossip is best cure for the hibbie jibbies._

It was her grandmother’s favorite saying one that she drilled into her brain from an early age.

 

 

As the sun moved across the blue sky and as she performed maintenance after maintenance, Winry lend an ear to all sorts of stories. 

She conversed with her clients about life in general, about the crazy weather or about family. She preferred to listen (keeping strong opinions to herself) when a client talked about the military and the state of affairs in Amestris. And she offered smiles to those, who in vain, requested their automail to look like the one worn by the famed Fullmetal Alchemist. 

One of the local clients, a retired railroad engineer, brought lunch with him. He handed Winry the warm container with food made by his lovely wife along with a wink. The lunch had been much appreciated, innocent flirt included. Skipping breakfast hadn’t been on her list, she had to thank Mrs. Dillon for that.

 

 

The light coming through the small windows had reached the far wall of the shop when John Hartford, New Optain’s City Major, showed up. The man was maneuvering his wheelchair through the handicapped access while yelling at his son to leave him alone as he pushed himself up the ramp. 

Stubborn as a mule, Mr. Hartford didn’t accept her help neither. He reached the top of the ramp huffing, all covered in sweat, and looking like a ripe tomato. 

Winry waited until both father and son were inside the shop before scolding them. John Hartford was a strong man, but a man of his age shouldn’t be fighting against friction and gravity; he wasn’t impressing anyone with such foolish stunts. With eyes shut close, Winry pinched the bridge of her nose. An exasperated sigh soon echoed inside the basement-turned-automail-shop. Upon release, Winry unleashed a hard stare, first at John’s face then at the pink stains seeping through the folded pant leg of his amputated appendage. She already knew why the stubborn man had graced her with his presence. 

Even though John Hartford was healthy person, and was strong enough to endure surgery, he was over the recommended age for receiving automail. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Mrs. Rockbell.” 

The knowing remark made Winry return her attention to the City Major. 

Piercing gray eyes met with hers. They were filled with a type of determination she hadn’t seen in years. 

John Hartford knew she was paying full attention. A wolfish grin spread across his weathered face, revealing some his gold crowns as he held his proud smile. 

Winry crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. Mr. Hartford was gutsy but that’s to be expected from a man who had been at death’s door.

Tales of Alphonse’s unusual healing skills had spread throughout East Amestris, so Mark Hartford, the Major’s oldest son, came to their door one white winter morning. He walked into their lives, desperate, and with a sliver of hope clinging to his dimmed gray eyes. 

Upon being welcomed into their house, Mark told Alphonse about the terrible car accident his father had been in. Amongst choked sobs and pained looks, Mark pleaded with the alkahestrist to travel north so he could tend to his dying father. 

Alphonse had been more than happy to help the Major and New Optain. He knew of the good deeds John Hartford had done for the Ishvalan people before, during and after the Promised Day. 

Living up to his fame, Alphonse brought back the City Major from the brink of death, but he couldn’t save the man’s right leg. Mr. Hartford had to go under the knife to have the maimed extremity removed. 

Alphonse still lamented not being able to save the Major from that kind of physical loss. 

The Harford’s were grateful for everything that Alphonse did for their patriarch, they even invited him for a celebration. That night, Mark handed Alphonse a check for services rendered, which he refused to take. Alphonse explained to the perplexed man that he worked under the “Returning Eleven Principle”, a belief he had been practicing since he first traveled to Xing. 

Apparently, it was Alphonse’s philanthropy that had brought John Hartford to Resembool. This made Winry take the man seriously.

 

* * *

 

Winry raised her arms high and stretched from side to side. A sigh of relief filled the room; the stretch eased the tension on her tired muscles. Winry dropped her arms to the sides then sank deeper into the chair. The slumped posture felt divine as it took the pressure off her lower spine. Winry took the opportunity to take her green bandana off her head, tossing it next to the sketchpad. Another sigh escaped her lips, this one expressed contentment for being gifted with a productive day. 

The numerous fittings and adjustments had kept her pretty busy for hours, but it was Mr. Hartford’s unexpected visit which made her day. Something magical happened after their small clash. 

John confessed that a wood peg or even a wheelchair would’ve been sufficient for him, but a fully functional limb would provide him with the mobility to achieve much more. Winry saw in Hartford’s silver eyes that he had a dream, and dreamers change the world, she knew this well. Her parents and the Elric brothers were prove of the power of dreams. 

Winry leaned forward and picked up the sketchpad. She skimmed through the pages, looking at the various rough sketches made for Mr. Hartford’s leg, before putting the pad back on the table. Winry leaned over table, reaching for the wad of cash sitting past a paper block. She sat back on the chair with Mr. Hartford’s money on hand. Winry didn’t count the money, but by the bulk of the roll, she concluded that the man gave her at least three times the amount she needed for purchasing rough materials to create the leg.

 _Returning eleven, Mr. Hartford?_ Winry thought with a growing smile. 

The City Major had already convinced her to proceed with the automail surgery despite the risks, but it was when he spoke about Alphonse’s beliefs that she knew she made the right choice. Seeing the “Elric Principle” in action always warmed her heart. 

Winry looked at the wad of cash on hand and smiled. The leftover money was going to serve her well. She was going to stock the shop with enough raw materials to create limbs for people with low income resources thus “returning eleven”.

Winry stood up and took the money with her. She turned off the light when she reached the top of the basement stairs then locked the door behind her. It was when Winry entered the kitchen that she finally begun to feel the physical and mental exhaustion from the busy day. She felt like stretching again, so she left the money on the breakfast table and raised her arms towards the ceiling. 

“I’m getting old!” Winry complained as she lengthened her spine; she stretched until her back popped. 

“Ah—!” 

She let her arms down and hummed, highly satisfied with the stretch. 

Winry finished the routine by rolling her shoulders. 

When she was done, she took a moment to look at the silent space; her lips curled down into a deep scowl. Thankfully, she caught herself in the moment. 

“The Rockbell women are known for their guts and daring!” Winry shouted, her fist connecting with her open palm, and creating a vibrant smacking sound. 

She wasn’t going to let something as silly as feeling lonely to perturb her. 

In the back of her mind, she saw Pinako grinning with pride, and that made her giggle. 

Winry lowered her hands, and as she did, she felt the silence returning. She huffed and some of her fringe got caught in the swirling puff of air. 

Deciding to ignore the annoying stillness, she occupied her mind with the bundled money. Winry picked up the wad of cash and headed upstairs to the study room. 

 

* * *

 

Winry entered the study room and flipped the light switch on. The incandescent illumination undulated over rich reds and radiant golds of the many Xinguese artifacts decorating the room. Everything came to life in the small space and it made Winry feel as if she was that country itself. But the illusion didn’t last long and the room returned to being a simple place.

The exotic nook had been added with the use of alchemy. At the beginning, Winry was against the addition because the extra space would ruin the architecture of the yellow house. But Alphonse was in dire need for a place that served as his study. Sugary words and a great neck massage had been enough to persuade Winry into giving the go. While the room was mostly Alphonse’s, it still had space for her belongings, which weren’t many. Everything she needed was stored in the basement but books and engineering journals were better off if they were kept away from motor oil and grease. 

Winry studied the room. Alphonse sure made the place quite cozy, it made her wonder if he really was going to move his belongings at all. 

A little over a year ago, Alphonse decided to use the lot of the old Elric home to establish his business. He used alchemy to erect a small building that would soon house the first alkahestry school residing outside of Xing. 

It had been an ambitious dream that almost didn’t come true. 

Alphonse’s proposal exploded into a bitter affair that lasted almost a decade as he battled with the prominent Xinguese nobility for rights to teach alkahestry outside the country. Thankfully, he succeeded, and gained the favor of Emperor Yao to erect the establishment. 

Technically, Alphonse is ready to open shop, but open contracts he has with the military keep him from doing so.

Her eyes fell upon the thick manuscript sitting heavily on top of the desk. 

Alphonse never had intentions of joining the military but he gladly accepted private sector contracts from Brigadier General Roy Mustang. The manuscript was one of those open contracts he had with the General. The thick document contained information for what was going to become the first Amestrian textbook on alkahestry. 

It took Alphonse two years to write the manuscript, only some final revisions were needed before submitting for publication. 

Winry hadn’t asked Alphonse directly, but she was pretty sure that he had travelled to Xing to conclude his research. Her eyes left the manuscript and moved across the room to where a large  _shuǐ mò huà_ hung. The beautiful ink-wash painting mounted on heavy oak depicted a mountainous region unique to Xing, one that was said to be the “home of the dragon gods”. Winry made her way to the painting. The gorgeous rendition served for another purpose, it hid a safe embedded in the wall. 

Winry lifted the heavy painting off the wall and leaned it against the nearby bookshelf before returning to the safe. Her tongue peeked between rosy lips as she dialed in the four-digit combination. Once the internal bars aligned, Winry turned the brass handle to the right. 

To her surprise, Alphonse’s old camera was there to greet her.

“Jeez, Al…” 

Winry groaned as she moved the camera to one side. She took out the wad of cash from a side pocket in her work uniform and stashed it inside the safe. Winry locked the metal box, giving the dial a good spin. She hung the painting back in place. 

Winry took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at the Xinguese landscape; her brow tensed. 

One of the highlights of Alphonse’s trips was the precious mementos he brought back home, like the photographs of the places he visited. In the past, she used to join him on his long trips to the Eastern land, but the Rockbell brand had grown in popularity, especially after the events of the Promised Day. This fame was great for business but terrible for leisure time. Through Alphonse’s eyes, she could relive those precious experiences of old. And thanks to the chemical process of instant film, Winry also got to see images of dear friends fixed into paper. 

Alphonse had an unique way of observing life which gave a mythical quality to his photography. Landscapes and portraits were so rich in nature that a person could feel being transported inside a photograph while looking at it. 

Thinking about Alphonse’s artistic talents brought a fond smile to her face. It didn’t used to be like that, though. Alphonse used to be terrible at point and shoot. Winry remembered well the first photograph the he ever took. 

“Smile for me!” Alphonse had called aloud before the bright flash blinded her. 

She had been working on an automail hand and had been quite distracted when he decided to take her picture. Instead of posing with a pleasant smile, Winry ended making a funny face, one that _did_ made her smile days after when Alphonse showed her the developed film.

 _That had been nine years ago,_ she thought; her long lashes fanned down, pointing to the floor.

Nostalgia spread across every inch of her body and it ran so deep that Winry felt compelled to find that specific picture. She left the study room and went to her bedroom, straight to the closet. 

Inside the dark space, sitting on the far left, laid a large cedar trunk holding her most cherished possessions. Winry knelt in front of the trunk, undid the clasps and lifted the top. Fragrant evergreen rushed out flooding her nostrils and bringing more memories to the surface. 

The surroundings began to slowdown as Winry became engrossed with the contents of the wooden box. 

It took her a couple of minutes to find the way through the sea of letters, books and Rush Valley memorabilia that inhabited the depths of the trunk. 

A loving smile jumped to her face when her eyes connected with the photo album, she ran a hand across its smooth leather surface. Winry removed the photo album from the trunk and brought it with her to the bed. She nestled herself the middle of ample mattress and placed the album on her lap. Another smile graced Winry when she opened the photo album, and her eyes twinkled as she went from page to page. 

Her heart titillated as all sorts of memories ran through her mind like the frames of a movie film. 

Tales of sorrow and tales of joy; tales of personal growth, of friendship, and of love. All of these scenes were frozen in time, becoming mementos of a chapter in time spent in Rush Valley. The picture she was looking for appeared a few pages later. She studied the young woman in the photo: the crooked grin, the disoriented stare…she looked terrible. 

Winry began laughing at her own expense.

She wiped mirthful tears that peeked from the corners of her eyes before returning her attention to the picture. Winry remembered how angry she had gotten at Alphonse for taking her by surprise, but camera stunt had been his way of breaking the ice after being slapped with a cold reception. At the time that Alphonse arrived at Rush Valley, the scabs of her broken heart had just started to fall. 

Seeing a familiar pair of golden eyes had felt injurious at the time. 

Winry peeled her eyes away from the photo album. Her face became distant, she still regretted how she had treated Alphonse all those years back. But it had been a time where she had lost her way, a time when she became bitter and downright hateful towards life. And it was a time that she wanted nothing to do with the Elric’s. 

Winry returned her attention to the album and flipped through a few more pages only stopping when she saw a photograph of a young Alphonse posing with a young Paninya.

“You’re a saint,” Winry muttered, remembering Alphonse’s tenacity despite her attempts at driving him off. 

Any other man would’ve sent her straight to hell, but not Alphonse. He told her that he was on a mission to make her smile and he wasn’t giving up. He was dead set on making her happy again, so each day he spent in Rush Valley, he took her picture, and with every click of the camera he repeated the same three words: “smile for me”. 

That simple phrase became the balm needed for her wounded soul. Thinking about the cure for her pain made Winry think about the cause: Edward Elric. 

She shook her head, expelling that ghost from her head; he was not worthy of her attention. 

Near the end of the album, Winry found a photograph taken at “Trattoria Di Rush Valley”. Winry put a hand over her new smile as she remembered the special occasion. At the time, Alphonse had already overextended his stay in the arid land. He came across with the lame excuse that he chose the “Automail Heaven” as his practice grounds, that he could put into good use what he learned from Mei during his time away in Xing. An amused Mr. Garfiel agreed with him and hired his services as an alkahestrist. He even offered Alphonse the other spare room on his property, the one next to hers. When she complained, the effeminate man explained that he was in dire need of money. 

Winry smirked as an image of the hopeless matchmaker ran through her mind. 

Leaving behind Mr. Garfiel’s adventures, Winry returned her attention to the album, to the photograph taken at the Auregian-themed restaurant.

The service had been terrible, and the food, even worse. The jukebox music only helped to accentuate everything that was wrong with the place, but watching Alphonse make a fool of himself had made the occasion worthwhile. That crummy restaurant had been the centerstage of a defining moment in her life. On that moonless night, it became clear to her how much she enjoyed Alphonse’s company. It also became clear how much he enjoyed hers. The lines of friendship got erased when he pressed his lips against hers. She had expected to feel nothing other than affection for her childhood friend, but her heart had other plans. It had been a chaste kiss—mind you—yet the kiss left her confounded. She found herself wanting more so she kissed him back. When Alphonse confessed his feelings for her, she accepted them with an joyful smile. 

Winry shot a look at the dresser where her wedding ring sat primly on a glass holder—a valuable article passed down the Rockbell lineage. Warmth enveloped her heart as she looked at the shiny ring.

The day that Alphonse asked her hand in marriage had been one of the hottest day that Rush Valley had in years. She had been working at the back of Mr. Garfiel’s shop but an increasing whispering coming from the front of the shop piqued her curiosity. She left her station behind and crossed over to the front of the store all covered in sweat and with her face smeared with motor oil. Winry could have sworn that all of Rush Valley had gathered inside of Atelier Garfiel on that hot afternoon. She was caught by surprise when Alphonse stepped into view. He walked towards her with the widest, most beautiful smile she had ever seen. It was a smile she mimicked once he got on his knees and presented her with an engagement ring. Her past sorrows and heartaches completely vanished when she said “yes” to the most wonderful man she have ever known.

Winry brought her hand to her chest where it mingled with the throbbing of her heart. She smiled wide as she reminisced about her wedding day and about all the marvelous years she had spent alongside Alphonse. 

Her blue eyes now went to the other valuable sitting on top of the dresser: the pearlescent picture frame.

“Please come back home soon,” Winry muttered while she smiled at the playful newlyweds contained inside the frame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This chapter has a commentary at Live Journal.](http://le-maleficent.livejournal.com/3201.html)


	4. FOUR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winry receives an unexpected visit.

Winry hunched over Mr. Hartford’s prosthetic. Keen eyes glided across the length of the artificial limb gradually moving over multicolored cables, intricate hydraulic systems and complex circuit boards. Attention to detail was of upmost importance; this automail piece was to become the prototype for prosthetics catering to the elderly. After the thorough check, Winry fastened the outer casing to the prosthetic. She ran a gloved hand along the shin of the leg, her eyes beaming with pride. 

As she gazed at the dark prosthetic, a thought came to mind. Referring to the new model as “The Hartford” was a suitable since it honored the man who won her respect. 

The new creation was one of a kind: carbon-fiber-reinforced-polymer replaced metal and the hydraulic system consisted of aluminum alloys instead of titanium. The use of those materials instead of the usual mix, made the prosthetic sturdy yet lightweight, perfect for older people. ”The Hartford” was the lightest prosthetic of all automail designs, and it opened the doors for other applications. Winry new that people with severe disabilities could find comfort in this design. 

Winry put her thoughts on hold. She needed to continue with the next phase of the assessment. She pushed the chair back and stood up and headed to the storage room. 

 

 

Specks of dust took flight when Winry pulled back the tarp covering the diagnostics machine, and the squeaking of small wheels accompanied her as she pushed the machine towards the workstation. 

The diagnostics machine was another invention of hers consisting of a car battery and modified jumping cables all affixed to a rolling table. The apparatus helped her test the artificial nervous system of an automail piece before a fitting thus eliminating unnecessary (and tortuous) adjustments. Along with the machine, Winry brought a test automail port for a male leg so she could hook the prosthetic to the diagnosis machine. 

She connected the prosthetic wires to the test port, one at a time, taking her sweet her time, because a wrong connection could short circuit the leg rendering it useless. Once the wires were paired, Winry latched the artificial limb to the test port before energizing. She double-checked all connections then grabbed the jumping cables already hooked to the battery poles. She had to be careful while handling the cables since they had gone through extensive modification themselves. 

While working on a commission some odd years ago, and while testing the voltage of an automail hand with a multimeter, it occurred to Winry that she could replace the original clamps on one end of jumping cables with multimeter testing clamps. It took multiple modifications to achieve the desired results but Winry was successful. The union between clamps and cables had been so well executed that Alphonse jokingly called her invention _a chimera of the automail world._

Winry begun testing the artificial nerves, making the digits of the leg contract and release as she touched each nerve connection with the small clamps. It took a high degree of finesse, but she made sure that the automail reacted just like a real leg would before declaring the work finished. She leaned back and looked at the automail. With both hands still in the air, and while still holding on to the clamps, Winry offered the ebony limb a devilish grin. 

It didn’t take long for her hands to take a life of their own. Thumb and index fingers rapidly squeezed the legs of the clamps, making the ends click as she released. Before her eyes, the toothed copper ends transformed into tiny alligators, miniature creatures ready to chomp on the unsuspecting prosthetic. Her grin grew wide as the child within played with the idea of toying with the leg. The desire to make the leg move in ways that were not exactly human possessed her. Such fancy was more of a guilty pleasure than morbidity; she couldn’t help but to feel entitled to tinker with her creations. Her capricious mind urged her take the role of a mad scientist, like the ones who took residence inside the novels she read during her early teens. 

Winry kept staring at the prosthetic while biting her bottom lip, a groan filled the room when she released it. In the end, she couldn’t bring herself to do it; she knew better than that. There was no way in hell she was going to risk damaging a precious masterpiece. 

Winry laid the clamps next to the car battery then disconnected the test port from the limb. She cleaned the work area before taking the prosthetic with her. She hung the new leg on a wall fixture across the room. 

Winry didn’t return to the workstation, instead, she went to the office desk and sank on the cushioned chair. She leaned over the desk to fetch a paper block where she jotted some notes. She pushed the paper block away, towards the far back of the desk, and with that, she officially called it a day. 

 

 

A quarter of an hour had passed by before Winry found herself lost in the space in front of her. Her eyes, brimming with boredom, lazily swept across the desk, looking at the paper notes and sketchpads sprawled about. They also studied the many automail photographs taped to the wall. The mundane scene made her sigh, and it didn’t take long for her to feel listless. 

Winry started drumming on the wooden surface. 

It wasn’t surprising that she felt that way, she had just finished a major project in one month and now she had nothing important to work on—to keep her busy—until the day Alphonse arrived from Xing. 

Her eyes traveled to the far wall on her right where a yearly calendar hung. A big red “X” crossed out the Wednesday on the fourth row of the next month. Her mood soured considerably when she realized that a month and a half stood between her and her husband. Winry couldn’t help but to hiss at the calendar. She had a feeling that the inanimate object was secretly mocking her. 

In her aggravation, Winry couldn’t help but to perceive the stillness of her surroundings. Only one month has passed by since Alphonse left yet it felt like a year. Winry leaned back on the chair. She had been grumbling, complaining about feeling stuck, when visiting Rush Valley came back to the front of her mind. It made her pause.

Spring was finally settling in Resembool which meant that the temperature in Rush Valley would be somewhat pleasant during that time of the year. 

_And Den wouldn’t suffer much if I brought him along,_ she told to herself, knowing how much the poor dear hated hot weather. 

The trip to Rush Valley became enticing. Winry took some mental notes, taking a quick stock of how many clients she had for the next two weeks. Fortunately there weren’t too many and she didn’t have any new clients. She was certain that there wouldn’t be any problems if she moved some of the appointments to a later time. 

A grin brightened her ivory face. 

It was settled; she was going to buy a train ticket to Rush Valley early the next morning. 

 

* * *

 

At around midnight, Den’s thunderous barking cracked through the serene stillness of night. 

Winry, who was sleeping peacefully, woke up with a start. Her eyes flitted at all directions, looking for something that might be lurking inside the dim room. When she realized that she wasn’t in immediate danger, she sank back into the soft caress of her downy pillow, and groaned. Den had given her a good scare. 

Winry waited for the dog to calm down but he kept on barking. Den wasn’t growling, but his barks told her that he was anxious about something. She kept her ears sharp. It didn’t take long for her to discern knocking from the dog’s incessant yapping. 

Who the heck could be outside at that hour?

Winry hid her eyes in her forearm and whined. She didn’t care about the visitor; all she wanted to do was to remain snuggled under the covers. The cozy warmth was winning, she was drifting back to sleep, but as she doze off, she remembered the knocking on the door. 

“Dammit!” 

Winry threw the sheets off and rolled onto a sitting position. She felt under the pillow until she found her trusty ol’ wrench—her bodyguard when Alphonse was away. She got off the bed. 

Winry was putting on her silk robe when the knocking rose a few decibels. After putting her slippers on, Winry exited the master bedroom and rushed down the hallway. By then, the loud rasping was so loud that it was bouncing off the walls. Her left hand curled tightly around the stairs handrail. She wondered if Alphonse was the imprudent visitor but she quickly discarded the absurd idea. It couldn’t be him; Alphonse would never leave a place without sending prior notice. 

Winry gulped before descending. She went downstairs, at a snail’s pace, making sure not to make the wood creak under the weight of her body.

 _Could it be a thief?_ The ridiculous idea popped in her mind mid trip downstairs, and it was discarded as fast as it was conjured. 

_Maybe it is a client with an automail emergency,_ she then assumed. That was a sounder idea, and Winry hoped it was the case, because, otherwise, she would be knocking the lights out of whoever was standing behind the damn door.

Winry made it down the stairs in relative silence. She now stood at the base of the stairway with her eyes fixed on the darkness coming from the foyer. She turned the lights on, and sucked in a breath as she took in her surroundings. With both hands holding to the wrench, Winry took a step forward, then another, until she crossed the short hall. 

Winry was now inches away of the door. Her heart was thundering inside her chest so she focused her energy on her breathing. 

Just like Alphonse had taught her, she put her full attention on the way her chest rised and fell with each breath. It was a simple technique, one that helped focused the body and mind. Winry stopped when she regained her focus. 

Her left hand let go of the wrench while the other fastened the hold on it. 

The metal bar screeched as she unbolted the door. She held her breath as she grasped the doorknob. 

On the count of three she turned the knob and swung the door open. 

 

 

Winry was ready to strike whoever was standing on the other side of the door if he or she decided to get fresh with her, but she didn’t get a chance to react. She stood frozen in place, her eyes slowly widening.

“Hi, Winry.” 

There, in front of her, stood Edward Elric and his stupid grin. 

As her breath hitched, Winry wondered if she was still upstairs, in her room, snuggling comfortably under the bedsheets, and dreaming the entire thing.

 

 

Winry’s hand slipped from the doorknob; her heart began pounding hard against her ribcage. She thought she was seeing an apparition, but her nostrils told her otherwise. She was picking up the familiar scent of musk and machine oil; of citrus and patchouli. The man standing in front of her wasn’t an apparition, Edward Elric was there in the flesh.

As Winry stared at Edward, her heart beats doubled, making her delirious. She brought her hand over to her chest in hopes to tame her wild heart but it didn’t want to be tamed; intense golden eyes only served to fuel the passion of the rebellious organ. 

Winry’s brow tensed when she begun feeling weak at the knees. She knew that she would hate herself if she fell victim to a fainting spell, so she dug deep, until she found the inner strength to make her heart and her emotions yield. Thankfully, she succeeded, and for the time being, she appeared unaffected by Edward’s presence. 

Although she had reigned her emotions, Winry couldn’t help but to feel like a fool. She had shown weakness even if her reaction was justified by the circumstances involved. 

Winry let out a low grunt before speaking.

“What are you doing here?” She spat, and she wasn’t in the least surprised at how angry she had sounded. 

Surprisingly, Edward’s face remained neutral, as if he was expecting her to blow. 

“It’s been a long time, huh?” Edward replied with irritating equanimity, but he became cautious when he spotted Winry’s favorite wrench shaking fiercely in her right hand. 

Edward kept his eyes trained on her whitening knuckles, reminding himself that he had to thread carefully around Winry or risk getting his skull bashed in. A stiff smile appeared on his handsome face just as he was about to explain himself. 

"I was in East City waiting for the 10:15 to Central…” he started but paused just to make sure that Winry was following his words. She remained still, with her right hand strangling the wrench and her eyes shooting daggers at him. 

Winry was displaying her typical behavior, so Edward cleared his throat and continued, “…as I was saying, I was in East City, and at the last minute I decided to take the red-eye to Resembool so I could pay my little brother a visit and—"

“Spare me your cheap excuses,” Winry cut him off in a tone too abrasive for the eardrums, “you need your leg checked!” 

The wrench trapped in her right hand felt the full force of her wrath. 

“You really have some nerve showing yourself around here after all this time!” She ground out while her blood boiled.

Edward inhaled sharply, taking each blow with the impassiveness of a Xinguese monk, but his calm demeanor had only served to rub Winry the wrong way. 

Her glower spoke volumes. 

Edward exhaled long and hard, recognizing that no matter what he said or did wasn’t going to appease Winry. 

“So, where’s Al?” He asked, deliberately ignoring the angry blonde and the death stare she now offered him. 

“Al is not here. He went to Xing. Business trip. You know how that goes,” Winry snapped, almost bristling. 

“Oh…” Edward wasn’t expecting that answer. He offered her a sheepish grin in hopes that it would pacify Winry, but it didn’t. He felt like a jackass. 

And the seconds began collecting around them. 

The seconds turned into minutes, and Winry still seethed with anger. Edward knew then that he had made a terrible mistake by stopping by without prior notice. 

The increasing silence was becoming unnerving so he decided to put and end to it.

“I’ll be on my way then…” Edward offered before bending over to pick up his old suitcase, the one he had lugged around Amestris since he was barely a teen. 

“Good night, Winry,” he added when his golden eyes met with azure. 

His parting words had been short, contrite and forced.

Edward turned around, his long ponytail sliced the cool night air, setting the pace to venture back into town.

Winry stared at him in dead silence. 

She couldn’t help but to admire the breadth of his broad back as he threw the suitcase over his right shoulder; or to be entranced by the dance of his golden hair as it undulated with the soft night breeze; or to feel mildly annoyed by the sheer arrogance of his strut as he walked into the distance. 

Her eyes narrowed into contemptuous slits. 

_The nerve of that jerk!_

How dare he disturb her sleep and come up with all that fuss just to leave like nothing had ever happened! It made her so angry, so irritated, so—

“What about your checkup!” 

Edward slowed down until he made a full stop. He sighed and his shoulders slumped some before turning around. 

“I wasn’t peddling my way into having the leg checked, Winry, you assumed that I needed help.” 

Winry noticed that Edward was starting to sound and look quite irritated himself but she couldn’t care less. 

Edward turned around and continued walking. “See you later,” he added, raising a hand and bidding Winry farewell as he walked away. “I’ll stop by to see Al when I finish my business back in Central, hopefully he’ll be back by then.”

Winry refrained from answering; however, she took interest in Edward’s strides as he walked downhill. The way his ponytail swung as he went down the slope was a dead giveaway to a mild unbalance on the hips.

 _That stupid idiot!_ It was so obvious that he needed a checkup. 

“Suit yourself!” Winry admonished.

It was a pointless effort, she knew well that Edward could have the leg checked anywhere once he left Resembool. Thinking about Resembool reminded Winry of the upcoming Sheep Festival. She hadn’t been to downtown as of late but she knew it was busy and busy meant that the only hotel in town was sold out. 

Winry bit her lower lip in vexation as she watched Edward’s figure trudge into the distance. She released her lip along with an exasperated sigh. 

They hadn’t been on the best of terms for years, but this didn’t mean that she had to be completely heartless with him. She wouldn’t forgive herself if she left Edward sleeping out on the streets.

Edward had almost reached the dirt road that led to downtown. 

She needed to make up her mind, fast.

“Don’t go!” Winry yelled as loud as possible, “the Sheep Festival is going to start in a couple of days and I don’t think there’s any vacant rooms left in town!” 

Her words had reached Edward’s ears. 

Winry watched him stop. He was standing motionless and with his head and shoulders hanging low. It looked like he was weighing his options. 

Finally, he turned to look at her.

“I forgot all about the festival!” Edward shouted back after the long pause. “You really don’t mind me staying?” 

He was rubbing the back of his neck when her lips pursed. 

"I don’t mind!” She shouted back, ignoring the fact that she had just lied.

Even at that distance, Winry could see how Edward’s face lit with appreciation. His unabashed gratitude inevitably tugged at her heart. Damn him.

 

 

With or without pain, Edward trotted back to the yellow house. 

Den, who had been witnessing the skirmish all along, took the opportunity to play with Edward when he returned to the porch. 

Sloppy licks, loud barks and furious tail wagging; Winry watched the playful exchange between Edward and her dog with feigned indifference.

“You can stay in the guest room. You know the way," she said to Edward when Den became tired of playing. 

Edward gave the dog one last good rub of the head before pushing himself upright. 

Winry stepped away from the door to let him in.

“Thanks, Winry,” he replied, grinning, as he walked past her. This time his smile made her blush.

“Yeah-yeah, make yourself at home,” Winry mumbled, too mortified to even look at Edward straight in the eyes. 

She locked the door behind her and let out a quiet sigh, one that she left with the door before heading back to the stairs. 

“I’m heading to bed now, good night.” 

"Good night, Winry.” 

The sweetness and gentleness in his voice caught Winry by surprise. It made her lose momentum as she walked upstairs. She stopped mid trip, pursing her lips and grasping the handrail tight.

“Tomorrow I will be checking that automail leg. It _is_ my creation, after all.” 

Winry continued walking upstairs. She didn’t look at Edward when she spoked to him nor she glanced back when she reached the second floor. She reached the master bedroom without noticing the wistful smile that darkened his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This chapter has a commentary at Live Journal.](http://le-maleficent.livejournal.com/5275.html)


	5. FIVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of Edward's automail assessment.

Warm sunlight kissed Edward’s face. He fluttered his eyes open only to squint from the brightness flooding into them. He rolled away from the warm luminescence and sat on the side of the bed. Edward looked around as he settled; a fond smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He contemplated everything (every nook and cranny) with childlike wonder for he was granted the opportunity to sleep in his old room at the Rockbell home. His eyes went over every single detail of the room. He ended up chuckling when he realized that the small space remained almost exactly the same as he remembered it. 

 

 

Metal and flesh struck dissonant chords against the old hardwood floor, taking Edward (and his travel case) to the bathroom. Another smile crept to his face when he noticed that this room hadn’t changed much neither; in fact, it looked exactly as it did over a decade ago. Back then, the place had been a no man’s land, now it was claimed by Alphonse’s and Winry’s toiletries.

 _His and hers,_ Edward thought, sardonically.

He looked at his reflection on the mirror and noticed that gloom clouded his face. He tried to dispel it with a smile, but his smile came out crooked, like a grimace. Edward peeled his eyes away, scowling. Now wasn’t the time to succumb to self-hatred. He took out the toothbrush from the small case and turned the tap on. The cry of whining pipes brought even more memories to the front of his mind. Edward remembered that the old copper piping had a capricious will, so he let the water flow for a while, making sure that the spout burped all the air bubbles before putting the toothbrush under the water stream. And just like in the past, it took him about ten minutes to freshen up.

 

* * *

 

Edward knew that Winry had been up and about for a while (he had heard movement since waking). He knew she was downstairs, and the delectable aroma of sizzling bacon pinpointed her exact location. He headed that way.

His stomach growled just as he neared the kitchen, but he didn’t enter the place immediately, choosing to stay by the threshold. Winry was so busy that she hadn’t noticed him yet. Edward wanted to say “good morning” to her but stopped. His hesitation was understandable; he had no way of knowing in what kind of mood Winry could be at the moment. For all he knew Winry could still be angry at him for dropping by the house unannounced. He thought best to wait outside the kitchen until Winry finished preparing breakfast. 

 

 

Winry worked two pans at the same time. Bacon jumped on the left pan while the other (the one she was currently holding by the handle) cooked eggs. She lifted a firm section of the egg batter with a spatula so the uncooked portion could run underneath. 

As she worked on the eggs, Edward saw the tip of her tongue peeking out a little. The funny expression caught his heart by surprise, and he couldn’t help but to smile. He had almost forgotten how Winry tend to stick out her tongue when she worked on anything that needed delicate handling. Seeing her doing just that filled his heart with melancholy, the homely scene cruelly reminded him of things that never came to be.

It took a moment for Winry to notice Edward’s presence by the kitchen entrance. She had casually looked at him from the corner of her eyes while she cooked, but her brain didn’t register at first that it was Edward, not Alphonse, who was leaning against the kitchen entrance. She blushed, chock-full of mortification, when she realized the mistake she had made.

“I didn’t hear you come down,” Winry said as coolly as possible. She had hoped to have sounded convincing enough because her voice box decided to betray her the moment she spoke. 

“Morning,” Edward greeted with a knowing smile. He walked past Winry and headed straight for the coffee pot. He picked up the half-full canister from the hot burner. “Coffee?” He offered, slightly shaking the pot for added emphasis.

“No thanks. Just had some a while ago,” Winry replied as she spread some shredded cheese over the eggs.

Edward shrugged his shoulders. He headed to the counter, mug in hand. He placed the it on the granite countertop then grabbed the sugar container, pouring a massive amount of sugar into the coffee. He picked up a stirrer and swirled the contents just as he shot a glance at Winry. “Smells good," Edward complimented just before downing the black liquid in three large gulps.

This time, Winry offered Edward a small smile. It was a simple gesture yet Edward couldn’t help but to avert his eyes when he felt his face getting hot. 

Winry ignored his reaction and returned her attention to the sizzling food. She turned the burners off then grabbed the spatula and folded the eggs into an omelet, sliding it onto a plate. She placed the bacon strips and some toast on each side of the eggs then brought the plate with her, placing it in front of a withdrawn Edward. Winry returned to the kitchen to fetch some cutlery and a napkin. 

Edward’s heart begun to feel heavy as he contemplated the contents of the plate. His brows met in a frown, wondering why Winry would bother preparing breakfast just the way he liked it.

“Well, aren’t you going to eat it?” Winry asked as she handed him the knife, the fork and the napkin.

Edward hadn’t noticed when Winry had returned to his side. He nodded, taking the utensils from her hands, and concealing with his long fringe the fierce blush coloring his face. He was setting the utensils on each side of the plate when he realized that Winry hadn’t cooked for two. 

“You’re not eating?” He asked when he looked up.

“I already ate,” Winry replied, avoiding looking at him in eyes as she spoke.

“Oh…” 

Winry pursed her lips when she saw the look of disappointment on Edward’s face. She wasn’t trying to be mean, she just couldn’t bring herself to telling him that she felt uncomfortable sitting at the table with him. It was easier to handle a letdown than to deal with awkwardness no matter how guilty this made her feel. 

“Please take care of the dishes once you finish your breakfast. I’m going to setup my things so I can take a good look at that leg of yours,” Winry said before leaving his side, making a beeline for the basement door. She stopped shy of opening the door. “Don’t take long,” she added as she glanced over her shoulder. Winry opened the door, looking at Edward one more time before entering the basement. 

Edward remained silent as he watched the door closing behind Winry. He kept staring at the space she had been occupying and sighed, wondering if it had been a mistake to have stayed overnight. He returned his golden gaze to the food. At first, he played with his food, thinking that he didn’t deserved her hospitality, but the increasing growling in his stomach convinced him otherwise. 

 

* * *

 

Winry went to the tool wall to pickup what she needed for Edward’s checkup. She rushed to the work station and began sorting the tools by application, but as she worked, her mind wandered. The distraction got to a point where Edward was all she could think of. It wasn’t her fault, she was still trying to accept the fact that Edward was back in her life after long years of absence. 

_Since the wedding day…_ she better recalled, just as pangs of sadness assaulted her senses.

Winry slapped the sides of her face hard. She should be concentrating on the task at hand and not thinking about that insufferable jerk. Winry tried to go back to sorting the tools, but thoughts of Edward continued pestering her. She took in a deep breath, and before long, she started reciting out loud the steps needed to perform an excellent automail checkup. As she gabbled away, she begun to feel more at ease, and soon Edward stopped haunting her thoughts. Everything went okay from that point on, that is, until her eyes crossed paths with the foot of the stairs. Flashbacks of a younger Edward walking downstairs for a routine checkup exploded inside her head. Winry fisted a hand over her heaving chest, gathering the coarse fabric of her overalls as she squeezed her hand. She looked away, returning her attention to the tools laying on the table. She picked one up, then another, but as she sorted the tools, Winry caught herself thinking again about the former state alchemist. 

“Edward…” His name hung heavy on her lips. 

Winry wasn’t in the least surprised at how conflicted she felt. It was a natural reaction, she supposed, since Edward still held a special place in her heart. Winry stopped what she was doing. Her long lashes hung heavy with sadness. She couldn’t concentrate, the past was all she could think of. 

“Ed…” she repeated his name as her ocean eyes looked back to moments long gone.

 

 

Winry always thought of her relationship with Edward as one would think of a seedling—something tender and fragile—a thing that could only flourish with fervent dedication and proper care. Each hopeful gaze, each tender caress and each titillating kiss served as nourishment for that fragile seed. It had been a slow process, one that required copious amounts of patience (especially on her part). 

One day, their seedling finally blossomed, opening the doors to love. 

“Equivalent Exchange” Edward had so aptly christened their love, turning a simple courtship into a formal engagement. It had sounded like an absurd concept at the time (it was pure nonsense, really) yet she had blindly accepted it as truth. 

Edward left the rural train station after his declaration. Instead of feeling down, she felt elated. Their separation was a test so there was reason to feel fear. She was confident that the time spent apart would only serve to cement their commitment for one another. 

While Edward trekked the western lands, Winry worked at home, helping her grandmother with the automail business. Her time was mostly spent on repairing automail and devising new concepts for artificial limbs, but bolts, gears and grease wasn’t the only thing that kept Winry going. She also dedicated time to cultivate her dreams. 

Her desires had been as pretentious as the ones girls her age had. She constantly dreamt about her wedding day, about how lovely she and Edward would look all dressed in white—the color that best represented the purity of their relationship. Dreams of the wedding venue usually followed; and so did vibrant music, boisterous laughter and plenty of dancing. Then there was the wedding night. It had been the moment she most looked forward to, because she and Edward would finally be able to express the love they felt for one another in the most sacred of ways. But above all, her dreams always culminated with what most women wanted in life: to have a wonderful family carefully nurtured by unconditional love. 

 

 

Winry let out a long sigh, she hadn’t visited those memories in years. Unfortunately, reliving those moments always seem to leave a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. She smiled sadly, thinking that those memories were far easier to bear when compared to the memories of when Edward returned from the west.

 

 

Edward returned home at the end of autumn, almost two years after leaving rural Resembool. The day of Edward’s return had been the coldest day of the season. Winry could still feel the cold spreading through her body, chilling her bones. 

The weather that day had been unnaturally harsh, just like Edward. All sense of confidence vanished into thin air giving way to insecurity. Apprehension coiled tight around her stomach, and in an act of desperation, she asked him what was wrong. Nothing could’ve prepared Winry for Edward’s terrible response.

 _Winry, I think it’s better that we go our separate ways._

At first, she thought Edward was joking, but the severity of his expression told her otherwise. 

_I’m not good for you._

Was all he could give her when she pressed on. 

_I’m sorry…_

It had been a miserable way of saying “goodbye”—

 

 

“Dammit!” Winry hissed when angry tears stung her eyes. 

Ten years had passed by since that grim day, and while time had done a decent job of dulling the pain, Edward’s rejection still affected her. 

Winry brought her hands to her face, and did her best to fight the urge to cry. 

 

* * *

 

Winry used the back of her hands to dry the renegade tears that decided to ignore her wishes. A frustrated sigh escaped past her lips, lamenting the loss of control. 

In her brooding, Winry didn’t hear the thuds and clanks approaching the workshop, she only reacted when one of the boards shrieked under the crushing weight of automail. Winry made sure that her face was free from tears before masking her emotions with indifference.

“Are you ok?”

Winry glanced over her shoulder and saw that Edward was already standing by the foot of the stairs. 

“I’m alright,” she said, averting her eyes as she spoke.

“I heard you sniffling.” 

Winry could hear genuine concern in the tone of his voice, but his sympathy only made her frown.

“The air is too dry down here and it makes my allergies act up,” she explained while she brushed the fringe away from her eyes. 

Edward didn’t respond. Winry ignored his presence and continued working on tying a green bandana around her head. 

“I didn’t know you suffered from allergies,” Edward said after a long pause. 

While his comment managed to clear the silence filling the room, it didn’t do anything for Winry’s irritation. He heard an exasperated sigh. 

“People change, Ed, YOU out of all people should know that!” Winry snapped as she turned around to face Edward. She bit her lip in vexation when he looked everywhere but at her. 

Winry shut her eyes close and took a deep breath; there had been no reason for her to lash out like that.

“Please sit,” she said after the long exhale. She opened her eyes when the sound of metal clicking against concrete grew louder as Edward came closer to her. “Lie down on the maintenance chair for me,” Winry added while she finished fastening the bandana over her head. 

Winry put on a pair magnifying glasses—flipping the convex lenses upwards so she could see in front of her—then took the medium-size, flat-tip screwdriver from pile of half-sorted tools. She dragged a wooden stool over to the maintenance chair and sat next to Edward, and then, she froze.

Winry didn’t take into account that the intimacy of the moment could make her vacillate. She immediately chucked it to the loss of contact with Edward; after all, he had been out of her life for almost a decade. Winry grunted in frustration; it was a terrible way to start with the checkup. 

Winry stood up, “I’ll be right back.” She tossed the screwdriver back into the pile of tools and went to the bathroom, closing the door behind her a tad to loud. 

She leaned against the door, chewing on her lower lip, since she couldn’t pull at her hair without knocking the magnifying glasses and the bandana out of place. 

_Get a grip, Rockbell!_ Winry screamed inwardly.

She pushed herself away from the door. With hand on hips, and with her chin touching her chest, Winry took a few steadying breaths. When she felt ready, she turned around and opened the door. It took her four long steps to get back to Edward. Winry offered him a tight smile as she took seat, interchanging looks with Edward while she got ready.

The years had been kind to him, Winry noticed. It was then when she realized that she hadn’t had a chance to look at Edward—really look at him—until that moment. 

Edward looked young for his age, but that seemed to be an Elric trait since Alphonse was the same. His golden mane remained long but with the fringe slightly shorter than before. Now his bangs brushed against his high cheeks, accentuating his rugged contours. His face, like Alphonse’s, had become more angular with age. His eyes, unlike Alphonse’s, had changed. While they were still as intense as the summer sun, they had acquired a degree of mystique—the kind that disarms with ease—she sensed. 

Winry picked up the screw driver. She fiddled with it while she exchanged another look with Edward. This time, her eyes traveled further down. 

Edward wore a black t-shirt, so she missed the chance of revisiting the stories etched into each inch of his scarred skin. Her azure eyes lingered over Edward’s right arm. She was thankful that she only had to deal with one automail limb instead of two otherwise Edward would be laying on the maintenance chair with only his boxer shorts to cover his modesty. Heat shot to her face, the vivid image was too much to bear. 

Winry peeled her eyes away. 

She leaned over the metal leg and begun working on it before Edward raised a questioning eyebrow. 

Winry began by unfastening the anterior outer casing of the metal leg. Thankfully the tedious work helped her to not think about a half-naked Edward. She finished taking apart the first section, but as she loosened the second, her thoughts shifted to Edward’s limping.

“You know, Ed? You could have been more sincere with me and actually admitted that you had a problem with the leg,” she ground out.

Winry looked up only to encounter equanimity. The idea of clunking Edward on the head with a wrench crossed her mind, but she held back because she didn’t want to fall into another temper tantrum. Winry chewed on her lower lip instead, deciding to remain calm and focused. She continued taking apart the smaller sections that comprised the outer casing. With everything out of the way, Winry could access the internal structure of the automail. She flipped down the convex lenses and adjusted them over her eyes. Now that everything looked bigger, she begun searching for abnormalities. 

Winry was genuinely surprised at how well the internal components looked. The wires were in decent condition, the hydraulic systems weren’t leaking oil, all rotating joints were well greased, and the circuit boards remained hermetically sealed. She could easily say that the leg had received a recent tune up. Even if that was the case, it didn’t sit well with her, because a good automail mechanic should’ve noticed Edward’s slight limp and—

“It’s a nerve-to-port connection problem,” Edward mentioned when he saw Winry lost in thought.

Winry shot daggers at Edward; the unsolicited comment didn’t sit well with her.

Edward returned her kind gesture by offering her a short contemptuous snort.

Winry, in turn, rolled her eyes, she even harrumphed, letting Edward know exactly what she thought of his flippant attitude.

A short pause followed, Edward wasn’t fighting back. He simply crossed his arms in front of his chest and remained quiet. His gesture seemingly put an end to the petty argument, but the smart look in his eyes told Winry otherwise. 

 

* * *

 

Winry had looked everywhere but she still couldn’t find anything wrong with the leg. It was then when she realized that Edward might be right in his assumption. The port connection was the only thing left to inspect and she was dead set on proving that smart-mouthed idiot wrong.

“Ok, Ed. I’m going to detach the leg now,” Winry instructed. Her eyes slid to Edward when he didn’t answer. 

Edward still remained with arms crossed in front of his chest, but now he decided to throw an arrogant smirk into the mix. 

Winry gritted her teeth in exasperation. Oh, how she wanted to strike down that obnoxious jerk right then! But she told herself to wait. It was going to be much more satisfying peeling away the mirth from his face and serving it to him on a plate than braining him with a wrench. 

_I only needed to prove him wrong,_ she told herself. 

Winry leaned sideways to fetch an allen wrench. She leaned back and inserted the shorter side of the wrench into the port hole. With a swift one-eighty rotation to the left, the automail became disengaged. Winry then proceeded to flip open the latch that fastened the automail to the port. After hearing the familiar click, she held the heavy prosthetic with both hands and gave it one good tug, pulling it away from its host.

Winry bent over, her face was now inches away the port. She got closer to the hollow entrance and begun checking for foreign objects that could be lodged between the port’s delicate wiring. She didn’t found anything at first, so she decided to look deeper. She produced a small flash light from one of the pockets in her coveralls and took a pair of thin pliers from the pile of tools on the table. 

Edward visibly stiffened when she shone a light into the port hole so she made sure to work fast.

Winry looked carefully at each cable connection. When she reached the connector to the sciatic nerve, she noticed that it looked worn. She went over a list of possible causes that could damage the connector, and after careful consideration, she concluded that the afflicted component had undergone normal wear and tear. She leaned back and took her magnifying glasses off. 

Winry found herself looking at Edward with sympathy. Pain in the sciatic nerve was no joke, Edward had been in far more pain that he had initially let on. But that didn’t faze her. What did faze her was the fact that Edward knew exactly what was wrong with the prosthetic. 

“How did you know were the problem lay?” Winry couldn’t help but to ask. Her curiosity trumped over her hurt pride.

Edward offered Winry a smug look. 

“I’ve been taking care of the general maintenance of the leg. Nerve connections are the only thing I can’t fix by myself, for obvious reasons.” 

It took Winry a moment to digest the information given. She cocked her head from one side to the other as if she was observing some strange creature. She then started to blink stupidly at Edward, who in turn, gifted her with a vainglorious grin. Winry opened her mouth to say something but didn’t; instead, she kept staring at Edward, undecided on how to proceed.

“So, you’re telling me that all this time you have been taking care of the automail maintenance—all by yourself?” Winry asked after a long pause.

Edward nodded. "I decided to dabble into human anatomy and automail mechanics a couple of years back.” 

His response made Winry gape at him.

“Edward Elric working on automail…” she mumbled to herself, gawking at him as she spoke. 

It quickly dawned on her that the “alchemy freak” had turned into a— “Who’s ’gear head’ now?” Winry teased. She bursted into a laughing fit when Edward glared. 

“Ha-ha—fun-ny!” He all but pouted; Winry cackled.

Edward was preparing a snarky comeback when he was struck down by her beaming smile. The lighthearted expression adorning Winry’s beautiful features was something Edward thought he would never see again. His chest swelled with happiness. Sadly, it was but a fleeting sentiment; Edward was well aware that he wasn’t worthy of the gift of her affection. His shoulders slumped as his chest deflated, and he smiled an apology when Winry noticed his despondency. 

Winry gazed at Edward for the longest of time. She contemplated him in silence, thinking about their bittersweet history. Edward looked so dejected that it hurt. Her right hand found its way to Edward’s left shoulder. Bright eyes crinkled at the corners as she tenderly rubbed her thumb over the cotton fabric of Edward’s shirt, letting him know with the gesture that everything was okay. And it worked; his expression softened. They held on to that tender moment, welcoming with open arms the affection that came along with it. But that type of moment wasn’t meant to last long. 

The mood changed the instant Edward covered Winry’s hand with one of his. Past and present collided inside Winry’s heart when she felt Edward’s hand squeezing hers. She gently drew back her hand, not wanting to know the outcome of her conflicting emotions. 

Edward feared that he had committed an indiscretion. He was about to apologize to Winry when she started snickering. 

“’Gear head’,” she joked, preferring to keep things light between them.

Edward looked at Winry in utter disbelief; her mercurial nature never ceased to amaze him. He gazed at the openness of her expression. It looked like things were going to be fine between them. He felt relieved. The fire in his eyes returned, and so did his smart disposition.

“'Gear head’ suits me fine, Winry,” Edward offered in playful banter. “It’s way better than being called a ’grease monkey’, don’t you think?" 

Winry stopped laughing. “Are you calling me a ’grease monkey’?” 

Edward shrugged his shoulders. “If the shoe fits…”

“Edward, I didn’t get any grease on me.” 

He pointed to her left arm. “Then what’s that on your forearm?” 

Winry followed his finger and looked. Edward took the opportunity to flick her on the nose. 

Winry squeaked, bringing a hand to it. She couldn’t believe that she had fallen for the oldest trick in the book. 

It occurred to Edward, when he saw Winry’s reaction, that he might’ve taken things too far. He mentally prepared himself to endure whatever Winry might have installed for him: be it an insult, a slap or a heavy wrench to the head. 

He was prepared for anything except for what actually happened. 

At first, Winry sniggered. She tried to suppress the laughter, but succumbed to a bout of laughter, with tears prickling at the corners of her ocean eyes. She only stopped laughing when her insides began to hurt. 

Winry was drying mirthful tears with her fingers when she realized that she hadn’t laughed like that in years. She felt so grateful that in return she gifted Edward a bright smile. 

It dawned on her, as she smiled, that somehow they were able to get along without breaking into more petty fighting. Her smile grew in size and the load in her heart and soul became light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This chapter has a commentary at Live Journal.](http://le-maleficent.livejournal.com/6395.html)
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> In case you're wondering, below is an image of Ed as he looks like in this story. The LJ commentary has details about this.
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	6. SIX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Anything that can go wrong will go wrong."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot mention that the rewrite contains new elements. Reasons behind this are that I have gotten a tad better at narrating but mainly because I decided to make a sequel to this story. See my profile for more info.
> 
>  **This chapter contains about 90% new content.** I hope that this becomes attractive to readers who already read the original plot. Yes, you will have something new to look forward.

Pinako Rockbell taught Winry everything she knew. She taught her not only the automail trade but also everyday basics. Under her tutelage, Winry learned how to cook and how to clean, and while Pinako didn’t teach her how to be girly (being a tomboy herself), she did teach her about the facts of life. The greatest life lesson that the old woman could ever offer Winry came from the old adage _”anything that can go wrong will go wrong.”_

Winry never liked the message behind those “words of wisdom” for it was a pessimistic way to look at life. But personal opinions so very often have little to do with a hard truth. She would soon come to experience firsthand the subtle mechanics behind that old saying. 

 

* * *

 

Winry had expected that Edward would be on his way to Central after finishing the automail checkup, with Alphonse absent, there was no reason for him to stay any longer. He would stay under her roof for one more day since the train bound for Central stopped at the Resembool station only once, and that was at the break of dawn. Plans were made over coffee; Winry was going to take Edward to the train station so he could purchase the ticket for the next available departure. 

As luck would have it, doubt prickled Winry before leaving for the station. She stopped in the middle of the porch and turned around to face Edward and asked him if he had someone available to fix the affected connection back in Central. 

He shook his head in response. 

“No, Winry,” he simply answered. 

She noticed how his expression turned distant for a fraction of a second, just before saying, “I only trust you.” 

Edward’s comment made Winry vacillate. She gazed at him, inadvertently tucking some strands of her flaxen hair behind a rudy ear. The adoration glistening in his honey eyes made her heart flutter. A shy smile blossomed on her face like a wild daisy. 

“Okay, Ed,” Winry responded, her eyes beaming. She didn’t see a problem with admitting him as a patient. 

That same evening Winry explained to Edward the type of procedure he was going to endure. She went on explaining why a minor surgery was necessary to replace artificial-to-organic connections, stressing on the importance of rest for a fast recovery. Edward became quite displeased upon hearing that this resting period was equivalent to being prostrated in bed. When he was about to complain, Winry expanded on the original explanation stating that the sciatic nerve was going to become quite inflamed from handling. She assured him that it shouldn’t take more than two days of bed rest before being able to get on his feet. 

“Of course, this all depends on how your body reacts to inflammation,” Winry added, unknowingly sealing his fate (and hers) with the well-meaning comment.

 

* * *

 

As the heiress of Rockbell Automail, Winry made sure to continue providing excellent service to clients all across Amestris. The shop was setup to handle almost anything, so helping Edward under such short turnaround was more than feasible. 

It was agreed between both parties that Winry was going to perform the connection replacement the following day. Because of the low risk in complications, that type of procedure was considered as out-patient. Typically, a patient would be taken home after a few hours of close observation. Since Edward was staying with her, he was going to return to guest room after making sure that everything was okay. 

Before going to bed, Winry made sure that the operating room had been thoroughly sterilized and prepped for upcoming surgery. 

 

 

They met inside Rockbell Automail at sunrise. Winry went over the details of the procedure one last time before escorting Edward to the small operating room. 

Edward locked eyes with her as he laid down on the operating table; the profound level of trust reflected in his eyes gave Winry the necessary strength to proceed with confidence. She offered Edward a grateful smile before placing him into deep sleep. 

 

 

Replacing the worn component had been relatively easy and Winry would’ve called the procedure a success if it wasn’t for the fact that Edward fell ill.

Only an hour had passed by before Edward developed a fever. Winry had been expected this so she offered him some medication. The anti-inflammatory administered should’ve taken care of the fever, but it didn’t. Another long hour went by and his body temperature kept escalating. Tension was piling over everything inside the recovery room, even Winry’s shoulders weren’t spared from this burden. Edward noticed and took one of her hands in his.

“Don’t worry, Winry. I’m tough as nails,” he said, speaking words of comfort as an open smile adorned his flushed face. 

Winry wanted to believe him but the mercury inside the glass thermometer was pointing to the contrary. It had been the first time that a patient of hers had fallen so ill under her care. 

In that moment, Winry wished that Alphonse could’ve been there with her so he could help ease Edward’s pain with his alkahestry. 

 

 

By nightfall Edward’s condition turned for the worst. 

Winry kept following Pinako’s protocol for treating inflammation to no avail. At that point Edward’s body was presenting symptoms of edema, and a rash had spread across his neck and down his heaving chest. He had also succumbed to delirium. His health was disintegrating before her eyes, and in an act of desperation, she called Pitt. 

The Resembool native was an expert in pharmacology. Winry was sure that he could figure out what was going on with Edward where she had failed. In a shaky voice, she explained to Pitt what had happened, and fifteen minutes later, he was knocking at the front door. 

 

 

Winry guided Pitt to the recovery room where he promptly examined Edward. 

“Don’t administer anymore anti-inflamatories,” he ordered, realizing that Edward was suffering from a drug-related allergy, “it looks like the synthetic nature of the medication is the culprit.” He pushed his glasses into place before looking at Winry. “I’ll create a herbal tincture to ease the inflammation once I get back home.” 

For the first time that day, Winry felt relieved.

 

 

As they walked to the front door, Winry couldn’t help but to notice a minute frown etched on Pitt’s face. She didn’t have to ask what was bothering him, he was about to do so on his own accord.

“Does Alphonse know that HE’s here?” 

Even though Winry had been mentally preparing for that type of accusation, her insides still turned to jelly the moment his heated words reached her ears. 

Loyal to a fault, Pitt was just looking after Alphonse’s best interests. He, like everyone else in town, was well aware of the tumultuous history surrounding her and the Elric brothers. Deep inside, Winry knew that Pitt wasn’t trying to be rude, he just wanted to remind her, under the guise of offense, about what she already knew: that having Edward in the house while Alphonse was away is a surefire way to spark nasty rumors. 

Winry crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes barely meeting Pitt’s before saying, “He knows.” 

 

* * *

 

With the address book on her lap and the receiver pinched between her head and right shoulder, Winry flipped though the pages. 

She spent the better part of an hour contacting all clients, scribbling appointment changes on a large piece of paper to later copy in her agenda. Winry made good use of her charms to convince her clients to reschedule. Some were understanding, others, not so much, but that didn’t bother her. Edward’s condition took precedence above all else. 

 

 

Winry let out a puff of air the moment she closed the agenda. Her ocean eyes lingered over the rugged texture of the leather binding. She already could feel the exhaustion that was going to come from working long hours, but she had to do this if she wanted to keep her clients happy. It was with a sigh that she bid farewell to Rush Valley and her plans to pester her good old friends. Winry locked the leather-bound diary inside the large desk drawer then pushed the chair back and stood up. She dragged her feet upstairs, to the kitchen, to had a quick bite before returning to Edward’s side. 

 

 

Worry took over Winry’s features the moment she heard Edward’s strained breathing. She entered the recovery room in relative silence so as not to disturb him. She stood next to the bed, placing the palm of her hand over the white terrycloth covering his eyes and forehead. Her brow tensed when she realized how hot the cloth was. Winry gently peeled the damp fabric off and dipped it inside a container filled with fresh water that had been resting on the table for the better part of the day. 

“Oh, Edward…” Winry mumbled as she wrung excess water from the woven material. 

She repositioned the terrycloth over Edward’s eyes and forehead, gently pushing golden strands of hair out of the way as she spread the fabric. She looked at his chest, at the ebb and flow of the ribcage as he took shallow breaths of air. His labored breathing was the only constant sound heard inside the recovery room. It reminded Winry of the time he first received automail since he looked just as miserable as he did back then. 

“You’re going to be alright,” Winry cooed as her fingertips brushed a side of his burning face. 

Edward moaned; his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth when he tried to swallow. Winry took the opportunity to offer him some water infused with the herbal tincture that Pitt made for him.

“Get well soon,” she added before planting a loving kiss on top of his feverish forehead.

 

 

Edward broke fever later that night and by early morning he asked for food. 

Winry watched Edward in silence assessing his current condition while he took spoonfuls of clear broth. Now that he was sitting, the first thing she noticed was his weight loss. The skin had sunk in defining his high cheekbones and making his face look more angular than before. The dark circles under his eyes showed his exhaustion yet this dark discoloration made his irises shine like hot embers.

“You gave me a good scare, Ed,” Winry said, offering him a wry smile after she spoke.

Edward left the spoon on the tray, next to the ceramic bowl. 

“I guess I’m not as resilient as I used to be,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his head and grinning. 

His response came as a pleasant surprise, it made Winry chuckle. 

“I was well aware of the risks involved with the procedure—” 

“Of course you were! I forgot that you’re an automail expert!” Winry finished his words with her smart comment and a playful wink.

Edward nodded, his amber eyes smiling at her.

It was surprising how lightheartedly Edward had taken the entire situation; his younger self would’ve thrown a hissy fit. Winry moistened her rosy lips before smiling, secretly admitting to herself that this fresh new attitude of his was fascinating.

 

 

Edward made full recovery two days later. 

Winry was in the middle of inspecting the replaced component when he asked her something rather unexpected.

“Hey, I was wondering if you don’t mind me staying for a couple extra days.” 

The surprising nature of the request threw her concentration off. She ended pulling on the wiring, making Edward scream in agonizing pain. 

He touched back on the subject after Winry ran out of apologies. He went on to explain about his upcoming meeting with Brigadier General Mustang openly admitting to Winry that he didn’t want to stay in Central for longer than necessary. 

“There’s no place like Resembool,” he confessed, preferring the peace of the land that welcomed him into the world than the chaos of the Amestrian capital. 

Winry couldn’t understand why the earnest declaration pleased her the way it did.

 

* * *

 

Winry Rockbell was a curious being by nature, it was both her forte and her weakness. Those who knew her had come to accept her stubborn nature, for they are well aware that she cannot be dissuaded once something strikes her fancy. The need to take things apart in order to learn how or why they work was the only way to satiate her curious disposition. 

This primal urge was mostly applied to inanimate objects, like automail, but there was rare instances when Winry became curious about people. 

Winry’s curiosity for Edward grew with each passing day, and didn’t take long for her to take to the shadows, to observe his every move under the shroud of darkness. 

One afternoon, Winry found him in the kitchen working on the old wall clock—the one that had been collecting dust inside the tool shed. She remembered that the poor thing broke around New Year’s and she hadn’t had the time to work on it yet. 

But the clock wasn’t the only thing that Winry had caught Edward tinkering with. He had also dedicated his time to patching, nailing, mending and even cleaning the house without being told to do so.

It didn’t take long for Winry to realize that this Edward wasn’t the Edward she once knew. 

 

 

Sleeplessness visited Winry one night. She decided to get up and go to the kitchen convinced that a glass with warm milk with honey would help chase the insomnia away. After wrapping her body with a silk robe, Winry set foot in the hallway. There was a faint light running over the wooden floor coming from Alphonse’s study. 

Just like a fluttering moth, Winry went straight to the source.

Winry had taken only a few steps towards the study room when she became struck with doubt. She stood in the middle of the hallway with arms crossed tightly over her chest, mentally debating if she should press forward. It didn’t take long for Winry to make up her mind. She walked the rest of the way with the grace of a cat. When she got near the room, she noticed that the door was ajar. Winry pressed her right hand flat against the cool wall so she could have better support while she peeped from behind the door. She couldn’t help but to smile when her sapphire eyes encountered an all too familiar scene. 

Edward was sitting by the desk, eyes immersed in Alphonse’s manuscript. 

The scene unfolding before Winry spirited her away to a simpler time, a time when she was hopelessly in love with the boy once known as the Fullmetal Alchemist. The intensity of his expression, while he read, made her heart flutter, just as it did back then. Winry felt the blood rushing to her face. She took a step back, gripping the silken material covering her chest, as a mass of conflicting emotions begun stirring her insides. 

“It’s bad manners to spy on people.” 

Winry froze in place, gasping. Edward had caught her peeping. 

“I’m so sorry—!” she all but squeaked. 

The slit of the door was wide enough for Winry to see that Edward had already lifted a questioning eyebrow at her. 

She chuckled nervously.

“Um—I didn’t to know you were inside the room,” Winry added, grinning widely. She tried to make the pathetic excuse sound real, but Edward wasn’t buying it.

“Are you going to come in?” 

Winry noticed a spark of amusement in the tone of his voice. She would’ve chewed his head off for the smug comment, but given the embarrassing circumstances, she was in no position to start a fight. 

Winry let out a long exasperated sigh as she pushed the door open. She took a careful step inside the room as if the entire place was covered in eggshells. 

Her eyes were fixed on Edward as she moved about the room. She couldn’t help but to think about how attractive Edward looked commanding the space before him. Winry pulled on the reigns of her wild thoughts the moment she realized how inappropriate these had been. It was then that the voice of conscience told Winry that she shouldn’t be there. But she did the contrary. Winry sank grandly upon the cushioned seat, folding her arms over her lap, purposely ignoring the advise. It was in her nature to gamble with fate.

“I apologize for startling you,” Edward mentioned as he closed the manuscript.

“It’s no big deal,” Winry offered, along with a stiff smile.

“Al has come across some interesting findings.” 

Winry exhaled lowly, feeling relieved (and highly grateful) for the change in subject. “Al went to Xing to gather the final details for the manuscript,” she supplied, her eyes looking at the book in question. 

The proudest of smiles crossed Edward’s face. “He really has done something rather special here. I mean, he probably has even expanded what we know about the science with his research!”

His enthusiasm was catchy, soon Winry found herself feeling the same, but then a thought crossed her mind. 

“Have you helped him with the research?” 

The quick widening of his feline eyes told Winry that Edward wasn’t expecting the question. He looked away, shaking his head. “I wish, Winry, but this is all him,” he confessed in a low despondent voice. 

Winry couldn’t help but to offer Edward her sympathy when their eyes met. 

“I haven’t looked at anything related to alchemy until today,” Edward added, feeling the need to explain himself further. 

The news perturbed Winry. She had assumed that Edward was still interested in alchemy and everything surrounding the science. 

“I’ve been working on something else,” Edward mentioned, as if he knew what she was thinking.

He bent over to his left and fetched a long black tube, which up to that moment, had been hiding from sight. Winry remembered seeing the long tube hanging from his back the night he first showed up at her house. Edward’s disposition darkened the longer he stared at the tube. It made Winry wonder what kind of secrets were contained inside. They both remained quiet for a brief moment, with Edward lost in thought and Winry wondering what was going through his head. The space didn’t remain still for long; Edward cleared his throat just as his golden eyes reconnected with sapphire blue.

“As you know, I’ve traveled to the west in search of new forms of alchemy.” Winry jumped in place, his voice had startled her. Edward noticed this, but he still continued with his tale. “This is what I told you, Al and Granny.” 

Winry watched how the glow in his eyes became dimmer as he spoke. Even the tone of his voice had changed to match the gloom clouding his beautiful eyes. She wanted to have a say on the matter, but strangely, words failed her. 

Edward continued speaking.

“The truth is that I wanted to find a way to recover my alchemy,” he admitted, eyelids hanging low with guilt.

Winry gripped the armrests tight. It was the first time that Edward spoke about that detestable trip to the west. 

“It was a fool’s errand.”

Winry looked into his eyes and saw deep-seated hatred festering in them, the impression this caused her made her breath catch. Alchemy had been an intricate part of who Edward was yet his words made it seem as if he regretted losing that part of him all along—

An impudent thought bullied its way to the front of her mind. “Edward, do you—”

“Regret it?” he cut her off; a sardonic grimace slashed his face. “I would gladly do it all over again if it meant that Al would be okay.”

Worry and confusion claimed Winry’s features. Her eyes flitted between Edward and the long tube before asking, “Then why…why did you continue with it?” 

Her question must’ve hit a nerve because Edward visibly winced. For a moment there, his features took a cruel form, but they turned somber when their eyes met again.

“You wouldn’t understand…” he snapped at her.

Winry felt the sting of his harsh words. The lines between past and present blurred enough for her to relive that defining moment when Edward backed down on his promise of eternal love. 

_Wouldn’t understand!_ Winry bit back a curse. 

The armrests of the velvet chair trembled from the intensity of her grip. Her emotions caught fire as a wave of repressed anger set them aflame. “Why don’t you try me?” Winry shot at him, carefully grinding each word as she spoke.

Edward wanted to put as much distance between himself and the furious blonde before him but there was no escape. The mahogany desk was the only thing keeping him safe but he wasn’t sure if that was going to be enough to keep Winry at bay. He took a gamble and looked into the inferno of her eyes only to find intense hurt and resentment harboring in them. He looked away in shame. It pained him to know that he was still the one responsible for having created such profound contempt. His brow tensed. Be it in the past or in the present, Edward knew that there were no right words to answer her question yet—

Edward peered into the fury of her eyes, and while holding her gaze, he said, “I was lost, Winry…I needed to find myself.” 

Edward’s revelation struck Winry like a lightning bolt. She let out a shuddering breath as she tried to make sense of it all. She wanted to keep searching for a suitable reason _because Edward had to be lying._

Then…it suddenly hit her. 

A few months after the brothers returned to Resembool, Granny Pinako pulled her apart to have a word with her. Old wrinkly hands pulled from her apron a letter that had a military seal already broken. She remembered looking at the name of the sender the moment the letter landed in her hands. While she stared at the parchment letter, Pinako went on explaining that Colonel Mustang simply wanted to express his concerns about the wellbeing of the brothers. The Colonel thought that both Edward and Alphonse could be suffering from shell-shock. Pinako also mentioned that the letter included a list of signs and symptoms associated with that type of psychosis along with instructions about how to deal with its devastating effects. 

Her heart stung now as it did back then. 

At first, she refused to believe that her dear friends could be suffering from mental illness, even when she was aware that this was the most obvious outcome given their tragic history. But one can only live in denial for so long. The day came when she had to face reality. Alphonse succumbed to the illness one winter day. It took long months of treatment, patience, understanding and love before he got better. Winry remembered with crystal clear clarity how she had waited for Edward to present similar symptoms to Alphonse, but he never did. He never did! She should have know better. Winry felt her heart crushing under the weight of that painful realization. 

_Why didn’t he say something!_ Her eyes begun to water and her lips quivered. “I would’ve—” she tried to say but her voice broke. 

Edward choked when he saw Winry hiding her face in her hands, unleashing a river of bitter tears. 

_Shit!_ He had done it again, he had made Winry cry. Why must they remain stuck in a loop? 

Edward closed his eyes shut, lamenting that he had said this much to her. He clenched his jaw when he heard her wailing. It was then that overwhelming desire to comfort her possessed him. All he wished for was to see her smiling and laughing, like she had done for the past few days. Without any further thought, Edward pushed the chair back and stood up. He went around the desk and prostrated before Winry. 

“I’m so sorry!” Edward cried out before wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his head on her silk-clad lap.

Winry gasped. It took her a few seconds to react, to look down at her lap, to look at Edward. 

Wasn’t this what she had always wanted? To know why Edward had left her all those years back? The truth was finally out and she couldn’t handle it. Her heart couldn’t stop crying, grieving, clamoring, demanding that future that couldn’t be. 

She felt like she was suffocating. 

Winry kept her glazed eyes trained on Edward. She wanted to hate him for what he did. She wanted to punish him for keeping quiet all this time, for destroying the wonderful future she had once imagined. 

“Dammit…” she cursed under her breath, knowing that there wasn’t a fiber in her that could ever truly despise him.

With trembling hands, Winry reached out to Edward, pulling him into an embrace. More tears moistened her thick eyelashes the moment she closed her eyes. The tears felt cool when compared to the heat warming her nape. She felt some comfort in Edward’s soft breathing as it brushed hotly against her skin. Winry felt his entire body tensing probably because he was holding back his tears. She tried to follow his example and hold hers but they kept flowing on their own accord. Her tears must’ve come to into contact with Edward’s skin because he shifted to hold her closer. Winry gave into the comforting sensation. She buried her face in the nook of his neck and openly cried. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This chapter has a commentary at Live Journal.](http://le-maleficent.livejournal.com/7238.html)
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> P.S. I might not be able to keep posting on Thursdays every two weeks. Things came up that have a big impact in my personal life so I have to shift priorities. Sorry about this!
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> I might end posting once a month on the first week of the month but that is still to be determined. Thank you for reading this story!


	7. SEVEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winry and Edward choose the path of reconciliation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers (maybe?): Mentions of plot and characters from the movie Sacred Star of Milos.

The teapot whistled, Winry turned the flame off then went to fetch a small tin can from the nearest shelf. She popped the can open, the soothing scent of lavender immediately lightened her mood. She pulled a tea strainer from the nearby drawer and placed it over a porcelain teacup. Her index and thumb fingers dived into the can pinching some dried leaves, which she transferred to the strainer. While working on brewing the lavender tea, Winry’s thoughts returned to the moments just lived inside the study room. It was astonishing how in a matter of minutes, a simple conversation could change into a life-defining moment. If someone would’ve told her that she was going to make peace with Edward Elric, she most likely would’ve punched them in the face. 

Winry picked up the tea pot and begun pouring hot water over the tea strainer. The clear liquid turned to a dark shade of amber as it seeped through the thin metallic mesh. She dumped the soaked leaves into the compost bin then rinsed the strainer and proceeded to brew a second cup of tea. Winry shot a glance at Edward, who was sitting at the breakfast table. He looked rather reticent but his features still expressed a sense of relief. Edward’s expression made Winry wonder if he had intended to open up to her in the first place. She didn’t get to linger on that thought for long because the second cup was ready. Winry left the strainer inside the sink but not before dumping the tea leaves into the compost bin. She brought both teacups with her over to the breakfast table.

“Here you go.” Winry slid a cup towards Edward. 

He snapped out of his trance and smiled at her as he curled his fingers around the warm porcelain cup.

“Thanks,” he said before taking a sip of the hot beverage.

“It helps with sleeplessness,” Winry offered as she sat down. 

She contemplated Edward while sipping on her tea; her thoughts retuned to the recent past. 

Even though his words had hurt at first, they also provided closure. Edward’s confession—intended or not—had been cathartic. His words and actions had the power to cut through the blackness enveloping their souls, transforming them into something beautiful. From estrangement they transcended to friendship. She chuckled to herself knowing that Alphonse was going to become ecstatic the moment he heard about their reconciliation. 

“What are you thinking about?”

Winry blinked into awareness, cheeks turning bright pink when her eyes met Edward’s. 

“Nothing in particular,” she provided as she played with her cup. 

Edward smiled and so did she. 

As she held his gaze, Winry noticed that the storm that had been unleashed inside Edward had dissipated. His inner peace somehow warmed her heart. “Thank you,” she said, feeling the urge to transform this intense affection into words. 

The heartfelt words made Edward acquire some color, but other than that, he remained quiet. Winry caught his distracted hand brushing against the tubular case. Intrigue poked her curiosity just like it did back at the study room.

“Ed, what are you carrying in there?” 

Edward, who at that point was lost in thought, payed full attention to the case. 

“You mean this?” He picked up the tube. “This is what I’ve been working on for the past three years. I was going to do more work on it in the study room but got distracted with Alphonse’s manuscript.” 

“You want to see?” Edward added, picking up on Winry’s curiosity.

Glinting sapphire eyes ended answering the question.

Edward unzipped the top of the tubular case and pulled out a long piece of paper from it. He placed the tube on the floor before standing. 

He slid his teacup towards Winry, making sure that the surface of the table remained dry as he moved the chinaware out of the way. 

“Behold…” He said, unrolling the paper.

Winry’s eyes widened with amazement as the secret contained in the large piece of paper unravel before her.

“These are blueprints for airplanes,” Edward supplied.

From the fine details to the precise calculations, the technical drawings sure were magnificent. The engineer in her became enamored with what she saw. 

“These are amazing!” She cried out, unable to suppress her excitement.

“I’m glad you think so,” Edward boasted, “this is what I’m handing Mustang the moment I reach Central Command. I wanted to show this to Al first because he was curious about the progress of the design.”

Those words chipped off some of her initial excitement. Alphonse knew about the project; it made her realize how removed she had been from Edward’s life all of these years. Winry pushed all negativity out of the way. They had turned a new leaf and mended their severed ties; dark sentiments had no place in their lives.

“Hey, Ed,” Winry said as she returned her attention to the blueprint, “the wings of the plane…this looks a lot like what the Black Bats used for flying.”

Edward offered her a pleased smile. “You’re right, I used their concept to develop mine.” 

Winry was highly surprised. “Do they know?” Her response made Edward crack a laugh.

“This is a co-op enterprise between Amestris and Milos, with yours truly working as the chief designer and intermediary.” 

Winry was speechless; both brothers sure liked to get their hands into some interesting lines of work—

“I thought the Milotians despised us Amestrians,” she promptly asked, recalling the friction between both countries. 

“’Disagree with our policies’ is more accurate,” Edward corrected. “Remember the Table City Riots of ’26?”

Winry nodded. She didn’t think much of it at first, but then she began turning the subject over in her mind—

“Don’t tell me that you were involved!” 

Edward grinned. “I was there, closing the contract for this project when it happened—” 

“But I heard that it was the Milotians themselves who caused the riots.” Winry cut him off.

Edward shook his head. “That’s fodder for the masses. It was a small Cretan faction posing as Milotians who created the insurgency so the negotiations between our countries would go sour.” 

“Politics…” Winry crossed her arms over her chest, harrumphing her displeasure.

“I helped Representative Crichton in keeping the peace around the city,” he continued.

Winry’s eyes slid to Edward, her expression remained unperturbed. _Still acting like a hero…_ she thought, thinking it was just like him to help those in need. She didn’t notice when her mind crossed into the realm of daydreams, touching upon fond memories of the dashing State Alchemist and his red coat. But as luck would have it, those loving memories reminded Winry about ones of a different nature. 

“You got hurt didn’t you!” She all but hissed.

Edward grinned shamelessly as soon as the accusation reached his ears, but he cringed when Winry shot him a petrifying glare. 

“Nothing bad happened—!” His words cued Winry into thinking that something had in fact gone horribly wrong.

Edward fell victim to her scrutiny—of the kind he endured during his teenage years. He began fiddling with the teacup, and that was the excuse needed for Winry to blow a fuse. 

“Spill it!” 

Edward laughed nervously, knowing that he had been found out. He tried to look for a way to change the subject but the sheer intensity of Winry’s baleful expression convinced him otherwise. He was left with no other choice but to come clean.

“Um…I got shot—” 

“Edward Elric—!” She cut him off.

“The bullet didn’t hit flesh,” he cut back, trying to turn things around in his favor. “Nothing bad happened—I swear!”

Winry rolled her eyes at him. 

“Your leg got damaged, didn’t it?” She uttered, already knowing the answer.

Edward concurred with a nod of his head.

Winry pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is how you learned to work on automail, didn’t you?” 

She was restraining herself, Edward could feel it in his gut. He still pressed forward.

“Old Gonzales trained me,” he answered with utmost care, treating each inflection of his words with the same caution as one would give to a ticking bomb. 

Winry looked away, scowling. She would never get used to the idea of having someone else tinker with one of her creations even though past circumstances would lead to such outcome. 

She harrumphed as she picked up her teacup. 

“He did a good job, I guess.” Winry conceded, glaring at Edward while she spoke.

She took a sip of the tea, frowning with displeasure when her lips made contact with the now lukewarm liquid.

Edward expected as much, he knew how possessive Winry was with her automail. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and smirking with the confidence of someone who had an ace up their sleeve. 

“Old Gonzales never worked on the leg, Winry,” he said, his eyes glinting. “The old man wouldn’t been able to appreciate the love that went into it.” 

That bit of information made Winry raise her eyes at him. “Who did then?” 

There was a different type of spark in Edward’s eyes. “I did.” 

The confession made Winry gasp at first, she couldn’t help it, those words were the last thing she would’ve expected coming out from his mouth. She shifted her attention to the teacup, gripping the china cup tightly just as her eyes became lost in conflict. 

And silence drew a line between them. 

Winry kept to herself as she finished her cold tea. Edward, on the other hand, didn’t touch his. He rested his chin on his upraised hand, quietly staring at Winry while she drank her tea. 

The mounting tension was becoming an annoyance; Edward felt compelled to change this. All he had to do was to shake his head, close his eyes, and click his tongue.

“You’re losing your touch, Winry.” He went on to say, and waited for her to look at him before continuing with his taunting. “You didn’t notice the patch work at all…” He added, crowning his smart comment with a vainglorious grin. 

Winry glared. She opened her mouth to defend herself, but closed it again. It was true; she didn’t notice any alterations made to the prosthetic in the initial assessment. But then again, she thought, she had been quite nervous at the moment of the assessment and then Edward fell ill after the surgery— 

“Just shut up, you grease monkey!” Winry retorted, masquerading her mortification with the petty insult. 

Edward found her reaction highly amusing. 

“Is the pot calling the kettle black?” The playful accusation was followed by an open smile, one that pushed Winry past her embarrassment. 

They both ended holding each other’s gazes until bursting into a fit of laughter. 

It took a long while for the hilarity of the moment to die out, but when it did, all that remained was silence and intense contemplation. The ferocity in Edward’s gaze caught Winry by surprise, and in that defining moment, she felt something stir deep within her. It was an intense sentiment that spread throughout her body like wildfire relentlessly claiming every fiber of her being. Winry let out a shivering breath, remembering that only Edward could make her feel that way.

“It’s getting late,” Winry mumbled nervously before pushing on the chair back and standing up. 

“Good night, Ed.” 

She left the room in a hurry without ever looking back to see if Edward was suffering from the same affliction.

 

* * *

 

The long course of the night was enough for Winry to go back to normal. She did begin feeling conflicted the moment she left behind the comfort of her bed, but it wasn’t a strong enough sensation that could leave her affected with restlessness. Winry felt even more relieved the moment Edward mentioned that he was ready to leave her side. In three days, this strange set of events that had sent her heart into a tailspin was going to come to an end. While Edward’s decision would unquestionably remove a great burden off her chest, she couldn’t deny that she was going to miss him dearly. 

Winry left the house shortly after their talk. She was making a house call for one of her elderly clients who just couldn’t make the trip to Rockbell Automail the day of his appointment. She welcomed the distraction because it kept her mind from retracing forbidden territories—those gray areas in in the human psyche where morality and indecency lived in sinful communion. 

 

 

The sky had already acquired a vivid orange hue by the time Winry reached the foot of the hill leading home. 

As she hiked uphill Winry noticed that Den was running in circles in front of the house. At first she thought that the dog was just happy to see her, but when Den didn’t respond to her call, she began to wonder what was really going on. The mystery was solved the moment she set foot on the porch. 

A rich aroma of beef and sweet spices, greeted her senses. It was a succulent scent that easily drew a pleasant smile on her face. Like Den, Winry took joy on savoring the air around her, that is until her stomach became impatient and began grumbling. The loud rumble tinged her cheeks red. She made sure to wipe off any traces of embarrassment from her face before inserting the key on the lock of the front door. 

Winry pushed the door open and entered, depositing the heavy tool bag on the hardwood floor in the foyer. She was about head to the kitchen when Edward entered the hall. 

Sapphire eyes became transfixed as they admired the beauty of the man standing before them. Her eyes studied every detail, like how his skin-tight muscle shirt and perfectly-fitted lounge pants hugged his figure in all the right places, and how the frilly apron and flip flops added a playful charm to his good looks. But it was the messy bun serving as a crown for silken golden locks which ultimately made her eyes glimmer and her jaw drop. It was mystifying how such frumpy getup could elevate Edward to the status of a deity. 

Winry couldn’t stop herself from ogling him from top to bottom, slowly, inappropriately. She wasn’t in the least surprised that her cheeks weren’t the only part of her body that had gone aflame.

“Um—” Winry couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so tongue-tied.

“You had a long day today,” Edward said, mistaking her agitation for exhaustion. “Why don’t you go upstairs and relax? I’ll call you once dinner’s ready.” 

His golden eyes glanced briefly at the bag laying on the floor before settling back on Winry. “Don’t worry about your tools, I’ll put them away.”

She got as far as nodding before taking off.

 

 

Winry leaned against the bedroom door, panting, and with legs that were as firm as jelly. Edward’s smoldering image still burned strong in her mind. She shut her eyes close and focused on her breathing while she tried to calm down. Just like the night before, Edward had somehow managed to rekindle old passions. Her brow tensed with worry, it scared her how he still had such a powerful effect on her. 

Winry took another deep breath. As she exhaled, she immersed herself into the depths of her soul where desperately tried to put things into perspective, because right now it wasn’t friendship what she was feeling for Edward. When she opened her eyes, her eyes made their way to her wedding picture. 

“Alphonse…” Winry whispered just as a deep sense of guilt took hold of her.

 

* * *

 

The mood was tense at the dinner table. 

Edward glanced at Winry every now and then, worrying about the frown that darkened her face. Something clearly was bothering her, but he didn’t know how to approach the subject.

The minutes seem to stretch into years while they finished supper. 

Edward leaned against the back of the chair, with a stomach full and content. “That sure hit the spot,” he said, trying to strike a conversation. 

When Winry didn’t answer, he looked her way, noticing that she had stopped eating altogether. 

“You didn’t like it?” He asked, still trying to see if he could get her to speak.

Winry offered him a menacing glare. “Why are you doing this?” 

The accusation took Edward by surprise; now a deep frown took over his otherwise calm features.

“It’s my way of thanking you for putting up with me,” he explained, his expression sobered considerably when he finished speaking.

Winry pursed her lips. It wasn’t his responsibility—his position—to take care of her. She tried to lock eyes with him but her guilt proved to be stronger than her will.

 _I don’t want that kind of affection…_ she admitted to herself, having shifted her hostile gaze to the plate with cold stew. 

“Please tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.” His words made Winry wince.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she snapped. 

Edward narrow his eyes in mild contempt. 

Winry looked away knowing well that he hadn’t done anything to merit such harsh treatment. 

Her long lashes fanned down as she spoke, “I miss Al, that’s all…” She even became surprised at the sincerity of her words. 

Winry could feel Edward’s eyes on her, and it made her shiver. She looked up and noticed that he was gifting her a sympathetic smile. 

“Don’t worry, Win, Al will be back in no time—” 

“Don’t call me that!” Winry screeched as she slammed her hands hard against the table. 

Only Alphonse could call her by that name! They might be on better terms but Edward lost that privilege a long time ago. 

_He has no right, no right—!_ Winry repeated to herself as she looked everywhere but at Edward. 

The violent outburst finished putting off the mood at the dining table. Neither spoke or looked at the other for a long while.

 

 

"I didn’t mean to offend you.” 

Winry looked at Edward when the words reached her ears. A twitch of regret began nagging at her heart the moment her eyes settled on his glum expression. She had overreacted and she knew it, but she didn’t want to accept it. If she admitted her wrongdoing then she would also have to admit that her violent reaction had been a byproduct of a guilty conscience. Her eyebrows knitted together in deep contemplation. There wasn’t any reason for her to be feeling so conflicted especially when she hadn’t done anything wrong. It became clear to her that she wasn’t thinking straight.

“I’m sorry,” she expressed in a quiet voice.

Edward’s severe expression eased. “None taken,” he replied, earnestly. 

Winry smiled. She was glad for his kind words, but she still felt terrible about her recent actions. Her lashes hung heavy on her eyes as she retreated back into her mind. Inside that safe space, Winry began to think. She already knew that she needed to adjust her attitude for the sake of their reconciliation; the question was how to prevent future outbursts.

 _What we need is a distraction,_ her inner voice proposed, believing that a diversion would ease her troubles and make things better between them. The idea of visiting the Annual Sheep Festival came to mind. 

“Ed, how do you feel about you and me going to the Sheep Festival?" 

The unusual request took Edward by surprise. His eyes became distant for a second. “I don’t mind going,” he answered, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“Perfect!” Winry chimed in, purposely ignoring the slight melancholy crossing Edward’s features. She was content that he was on board with the plan. She pushed the chair back, "I’m going to get ready. The nights are still cold around here—you should bring a jacket with you.”

Winry left the dining room in a hurry. 

“And don’t take long to get ready!" She shouted as she raced upstairs.

Edward didn’t answer. He stood up and picked up the plates from the table then brought them to the kitchen. He placed the dishes inside the sink and opened the tap to hot then began cleaning the dishes. It didn’t take him long to get lost in thought. In a vast sea of memories, he only had interest in one: the first time he visited the Annual Sheep Festival with Winry. 

_How many years has it been since then?_ He shook his head, and chuckled darkly when the answer came to him.

Edward finished washing the dishes while reminiscing about that moment in time when he enjoyed spending every waking minute with the love of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This chapter has a commentary at Live Journal.](http://le-maleficent.livejournal.com/9004.html)
> 
> P.S. You might want to read [Cotton Candy](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11277890/1/Cotton-Candy) by Le Confidant before I post chapter 8. XD


	8. EIGHT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past catches up to Edward and Winry at the Annual Sheep Festival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance if the readability of the chapter reads choppy. I can't tell anymore, and no, I don't have a beta nor I want to impose on someone. C'est la vie!

A huge ferris wheel could be seen in the distance—bright and colorful—and rising tall from the festival grounds. Euphoria captured Winry’s senses; this year’s Sheep Festival was living up to the glory advertised on the radio waves. Her eyes gleamed as she bounced the rest of the way towards the fairgrounds completely forgetting the blond man walking by her side. 

 

 

From the ferris wheel down to the tiniest of food stands: everything was covered in bright lights. To Winry’s surprise, the ferris wheel wasn’t the only gem found at the festival. A carrousel was gracing the center plaza. The elegant machine looked like it had stepped out from the past: the horses, the seats and every detail that draped the carousel showed a type of craftsmanship seldom seen in modern days. The kiddie attractions were situated closer to the entrance, where she stood at. Winry watched with joy as the children took wing on flying chairs or left their voices at the top of the giant slide. 

“About time you stopped,” Edward complained between labored breaths. 

Winry turned to Edward. Seeing him all red and hunched over with hands resting on his knees made her giggle.

“Sorry about that, Ed, but you know how I get around machines.” 

He rolled his eyes at her. 

Edward pushed himself upright and took a look around. 

Everything was so different—so busy and loud—that he could hardly recognize that this was a festival in honor to sheep herding. He figured that the sheep must be around somewhere unless the City Major left those poor animals out in favor of the flashy amusement machines. 

He elbowed Winry. “So, where should we start?” 

Edward’s blunt manners made Winry bristle but then she remembered what had happened earlier at the dinner table and calmed down. “The ferris wheel sounds good right now,” she offered as her eyes met with the Cretan colossus.

Edward also looked up. He couldn’t deny that a Ferris wheel was impressive to look at, no matter in what territory it stood. 

His golden gaze returned to Winry, and encountered her beaming smile. 

_That smile…_ Edward thought it was just as precious as in her youth. His features softened as his attention focused on those teenage days, now long gone. 

The abrupt silence made Winry pay attention to Edward. His wistful expression erased the smile on her face. 

Edward blinked back to the moment, feeling Winry’s eyes on him. He looked at her and offered a small smile, one that she returned in kind. 

In that instant, Edward found himself cut adrift in the blue ocean of her eyes. 

Intense feelings of nostalgia ambushed him as Winry transformed before his eyes into the girl that he adores. The sentiment expanded through every fiber of his body, capturing his whole being, and a hunger for the past possessed him. 

Edward didn’t notice when he had swept his tongue across his lips, nor he realized when he had stepped into Winry’s personal space; it was clear that the impulse to relive those special moments proved stronger than his common sense. 

He reached forward until his hand found one of Winry’s. His eyes twinkled and his heart rejoiced, remembering the titillating heat that emanated from her skin. 

Edward’s bold move made Winry turn pale.

 _What the hell is he thinking!_ The voice inside her head screeched. _She_ was a married woman— _married to his brother_ no less! 

Frantic eyes darted at all directions, already thinking the worse, but as Winry quickly found out, no one was paying attention to them. She looked around again and realized that the place was packed with strangers. She let out a huge breath. The chances of encountering a familiar face who would shower them with disapproving looks was low. 

Winry had already forgotten that Edward was holding her hand, that was until she felt his pulse beating in sync with hers, then her worry returned.

 _This is wrong…_ she thought as she studied his face. She was about to pull her hand away when she saw intense yearning in Edward’s flickering eyes.

“For old time’s sake?” He pleaded, a poignant smile broke out across his face. 

His words—his expression; these catapulted Winry back in time, and she remembered the clueless boy that Edward used to be. Her stomach began fluttering when she recalled his goofy expression, his bashfulness, and his gentle hand holding hers—just like he was doing at that precise moment. Those old memories returned to their rightful place when her eyes settled on their hands. 

_Am I okay with this?_ Winry batted her long eyelashes as she contemplated what was being requested of her.

She raised her eyes to his face. She had to admit that his yearning was quite contagious, because she found herself longing for the same thing. 

The voice inside her head became part of the cacophony coursing through the festival once her fingers interlocked with his. 

“Okay, Ed,” she replied, giving him—her—a chance to relive the past.

 

 

The ferris wheel was their first stop. At the moment, they stood stood in line, patiently waiting for their turn to come. They both looked at the towering giant from time to time: Edward, admiring the colorful lights dancing along the frame; and Winry, studying each segment that comprised the enormous contraption.

“I’ve seen these machines all over Creta but I’ve never gotten on one.” Edward mentioned while he contemplated the summit from below. 

Winry listened quietly, surprised by the earnest confession. With his vast world experience, she’d imagined that Edward would’ve done this already.

“Well, I can’t wait to get on,” she admitted, just barely able to contain her own excitement. She loved machines, and if given the chance, she would love to see how this ride actually worked. 

Winry kept turning the idea over in her head and decided to visit the fairgrounds early in the morning. It would make her day if the engineers would let her assist with the maintenance of the mechanical beast. 

“It’s our turn,” Edward announced, bringing Winry back to the moment. 

The operator raised the steel crossbar and they got in the cart. Both smiled at the operator as he secured the bar. Seconds later, the cart began moving up, jerking to a stop every time the operator loaded more people into the other carts. 

The people on the ground began resembling small ants as the cart kept ascending. Winry discretely pressed her back against the seat and closed her eyes shut. 

“Scared?”

Winry opened her eyes. 

“I’m not scared—just resting my eyes,” she spat.

Edward raised a brow, followed by a grin that he couldn’t hold back.

“Is that so?” He said, leaning slightly forward until the cart tipped with him.

Winry yelped and gripped the crossbar and the side of the cart with crushing force. “Stop it, Ed!” 

Edward leaned back, and broke into laughter when Winry shot daggers at him.

“You jerk!” She hissed and pinched his right arm, ripping off the grin from his face with a cruel twist of the flesh.

Edward yanked his arm away. 

“Dammit, Winry—!” 

“Serves you right!” She cut him off, “be grateful that it wasn’t a wrench connecting with your thick skull.”

Edward winced at the mental image. He adjusted his eyes forward as he rubbed the aching flesh, thinking that Winry was too violent for her own good, but his initial anger soon vanished, and his expression softened. He couldn’t stay angry at Winry—not when he knew that he deserved that pinch. With that thought in mind, he chanced a glance at the angered blonde. His heart skipped a beat when he encountered an all-too-familiar pout. A smile began tugging at the corners of his mouth, remembering how adorable Winry looked while wearing that expression. 

Winry could feel Edward’s eyes on her. She stared back, wondering what was going through his head. He was probably thinking of more ways to piss her off, she reasoned, so she narrowed her eyes at him. 

At first, she tried to rattle him with a scrutinizing glare, but like everything else in her life, it backfired, and she involuntary became lost in him. 

The longer she stared at Edward, the easier it got for her to see past his obnoxious exterior. Her focus shifted from spite to affection, and she began seeing other things: like the cute dimples forming on his cheeks as he smiled in contentment, or how his feline eyes shined like liquid gold as he contemplated the world around. Winry was forced to avert her face and lower her eyes the moment her cheeks went hot. She cursed at herself for wandering back into inappropriate places. From that moment on, Winry refrained from looking at Edward; instead, she immersed herself in the panorama surrounding them—like he was doing. 

The machine picked up speed, and they began moving up and down—round and round. 

Looking down at the festival grounds, and at the town from that altitude, was an unforgettable experience. Winry loosened her grip on the crossbar and side of the cart, and begun enjoying the tumultuous ride. 

After a short while, she glanced back at Edward. 

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, noticing that he was sharing the same enthusiasm for the ride. Her heart swelled with joy, and she thanked life itself for the amazing time they were spending together. Winry quickly lost complete interest in their surroundings. Her attention returned to Edward, and she lost herself in him like she did not long ago. This time, it was his golden locks what captivated her. The way his hair swished with the wind or how it swooned with the change in gravity and altitude—

“Winry…” 

“Huh?” She barely noticed the bashful grin directed at her. 

“…you’re staring.” 

Winry didn’t register what Edward had said at first, but once she did, she almost squeaked. 

“S-sorry!—I didn’t mean to!” She stammered, blood rushing to her face, and wishing the ground would swallow her up. 

To make matters worse, she noticed Edward’s face was radiating red. She laughed nervously just as she peeled her eyes away from him. 

Winry held to the crossbar tight and looked everywhere but at Edward, and she stayed like that until the ride was over. It was a good thing that she didn’t look back at Edward, otherwise she would’ve catch fire from his ardent gaze.

 

* * *

 

For the first time that night, Winry wondered if coming to the festival had been a such a good idea after all. She shot a glance at Edward. Judging by the straight line drawn across his shoulders, she could tell that he most likely was thinking along similar lines. 

Something was for sure: neither of them was paying attention to the crowded surroundings. Edward bumped into someone, sending that person to the ground. 

“I’m so sorry, sir!,” he quickly apologized, offering the poor man a hand.

“No problem,” the man replied as Edward pulled him up to a standing position.

The man let out a loud boisterous cackle the instant his dark eyes met with gold. 

“It’s you!” He exclaimed, pointing a finger at Edward.

It took said blond a moment to recognize the animated character, especially since his memory had to see past the maze of wrinkles that covered the man’s face. 

“You’re that old man! The one that owns the cotton candy cart,” Edward said, sealing his words with a wolfish grin.

“Asi es, mijo,” the cotton candy maker answered, extending to Edward a wolfish grin of his own. He then looked at Winry and his eyes beamed.

“Señorita!” The man exclaimed before noticing the gold wedding band nicely nestled in her left hand. “My apologies, señora,” he followed, adding a knowing wink to the cheeky comment.

Winry gasped, her fingers touching her parted lips just as her chest tightened. 

The man didn’t sense her distress. He offered her a bright smile before settling his eyes on Edward. 

The cotton candy maker started wiggling his eyebrows at him, saying, “So you two _did_ end up hooking up—¡bien por ti, chamaco!” 

Edward and Winry barked a laugh almost at the same time.

“Sólo somos amigos, mi hermano,” he explained to the old man in his native tongue. 

Winry simply observed the exchange. She wasn’t in the least surprised that Edward spoke other languages; after all, Alphonse spoke Xinguese and Drachman and some Auregan.

The cotton candy maker looked at Winry with deep disappointment. 

The sheer intensity of his displeasure proved to be too much for her to bear, and she ended casting her eyes to the ground. 

“Tsk-tsk—such is life,” the man said, directing his words to Edward.

He took a bow, and with that, he bid his farewells.

Both watched as the cotton candy maker disappeared amongst the crowd, without ever looking back. They glanced at each other only to look away from shame. 

 

* * *

 

Edward and Winry left the festival with their hearts hanging heavy. Coming across with the cotton candy maker—the man who indirectly participated in their blossoming relationship many years ago—had been ill-fated to say the least. 

For Winry, the encounter only served to unearth all the wonderful memories lived that night. She remembered how her nervousness vanished once she held hands with Edward. She also remembered how much she had enjoyed making fun of him, and she even recalled the excitement of sharing her cotton candy with him—

“At the pond…” she said to herself as she touched her lips, still feeling on them the titillating tingle of their first kiss. 

Winry felt her heart flutter, and she would’ve smiled wide if it wasn’t for the fact that her eyes caught a glint of gold coming from her ring finger. 

“Alphonse…” she gasped under her breath. 

Her face scrunched, realizing that _he_ hadn’t been on her mind for the longer part of the evening. 

“It looked like it rained around here.” 

The comment pulled Winry out of her guilt trip. She looked ahead, then at her feet, and noticed the moist earth squished underneath. She also noticed how the potholes along the road were brimming with muddy water. She was about to sink one foot into one of those potholes but managed to sidestepped it. 

“Let’s hurry back. It might rain again and I sure don’t want to get caught up in it.” Edward insisted as he looked up at the blanketed sky.

Winry agreed.

 

 

They picked up the pace, with Edward walking a few feet ahead of Winry. They had just passed the second crossroad in town: the one that led to farms, to her house, and to New Optain. 

The long quiet walk back home gave Winry enough space for go over the events of that evening. She patiently heard what her heart and reason had to say, and while these two were clearly at odds, Winry realized that they agreed on something: their growing interest for Edward Elric.

She set her eyes on Edward. 

The more she stared at him, the more conflicted she felt. Only a day had gone by since she rediscovered the love she once felt for him. Even if it had been a capricious twist of fate that had her contracting the amorous affliction, she, like the loyal wife that she was, proceeded to extirpate it from her heart the moment she fell prey to it. First, she tried to ignore the sentiment, when that didn’t work, she went for a distraction. But her amorous affliction proved to be more resilient than she’d expected. Of one thing Winry was now sure of: what once had been amorphous was now defined. 

Her eyes kept traveling across Edward’s form—along his every curve and angle—hating how this simple act made her yearn for so much more. 

Winry balled her hands into fists. Her wedding band pushed back against her fingers, digging deep into the skin, exerting painful pressure on the phalanges—reminding Winry of what was at stake. She felt her throat tighten.

“Edward…” Winry managed to say, forcing down the lump in her throat. 

His name left her mouth like a feeble whisper. 

The meek quality in the tone of Winry’s voice made Edward stop. He turned around, slowly, offering Winry a look that mimicked her own: torn and guilty. 

“We need to talk.” 

Her words felt like a blast of cold air; Edward almost shivered the moment they made contact with his skin. 

There was something in his crooked smile that spoke volumes to Winry. She bit her lower lip, and waited for the rolling in her stomach to subside. She even offered Edward a tight smile in hopes that this would mask her increasing anxiety. She held her expression as best as she could, but a bright light twinkling in the distance threw her concentration off. 

The light was shining strong against the murky backdrop. Edward turned around, and both stared at the light. 

As it got closer, the bright source split in two. It didn’t take long for both of them to recognize that the lights were the headlights of an automobile. The beams were growing in size quite fast. Instinctively, Edward grabbed Winry by an arm and pulled her closer to him. She tried to pull away from him but then she noticed the car swerving as the driver tried to evade a set of potholes. The car skidded towards them but the driver managed to take control at the last minute, speeding beside them as he continued the drive towards downtown. The car had come awfully close, and if it wasn’t for Edward’s quick thinking, Winry (who had been closer to the center of the road), might have been hit by the irresponsible driver. 

They escaped immediate danger but they didn’t escape unscathed. 

Winry was still pressed against Edward’s chest. At that level of intimacy, she could hear his heart singing to her. His strong heartbeats, and the warmth irradiating from his body was soothing. Winry knew, that if she wasn’t careful, she would forever be lost in that sensation. Her cheeks flushed as all her senses satiated themselves with the intoxicating embrace. Winry could feel Edward’s hot breath ghosting over the top of her head. It was an all too familiar sensation, one that always made her sigh in contentment. Against common sense, she ventured to look up, and her blue irises became trapped in amber. The rekindled flame in her heart grew twice in size, and began flickering full of emotion. The sensation scared her, but her amorous affliction began whispering words of comfort close to her ear. 

Winry didn’t shy away from the embrace. 

Edward’s expression softened, and his irises took the iridescence of molten gold. She remembered that expression well, it was the same one he gifted her whenever his lips wanted to capture hers. 

Neither one of them saw the second car coming down the road.

 

 

Their passionate exchange was short lived as the second car hit one of the larger potholes, sending muddy water their way. The cold grimy water splashed all over them, leaving them dirty and soaking wet. 

Winry stood frozen in place, while Edward reacted by cursing at the inconsiderate driver.

The muddy water leached the warmth from Winry. She felt the cold burying in her bones. She began shivering but it wasn’t the cold caused the tremors. Guilt rattled her body, castigating her for allowing herself to be swooned by passion. 

Edward turned to her and frowned when he saw her distraught expression. Winry’s guilt was so thick that he could feel it entering through his pores. Her hurting was pure agony, but he shouldn’t do anything to comfort her—too many lines had been crossed already. The proper thing to do was to look away and pray that their reconciliation didn't get affected by what just happened. But his good intentions only made things worse. 

Winry grit her teeth, and glared at Edward before taking off, leaving him and his apparent pusillanimity behind. 

Winry was halfway home when she heard Edward’s squishy footsteps close behind. She didn’t care nor did she bothered to look back. She stomped the rest of the way back to the yellow house. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This chapter has a commentary at Live Journal.](http://le-maleficent.livejournal.com/10185.html)
> 
>  
> 
> Dear reader, this probably will be the last update for the rest of the year. I have some things attend (real life gets in the way of my hobby). I still will try to update/post chapter 9 before December ends, but who knows. If I can't do it then chapter 9 will definitely be an interesting way to start 2016. Thanks for all your support!
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. So, [_Chasing Cars_](https://youtu.be/NINe6ZCRgBQ) by Snow Patrol inspired the angst of chapter 8.


	9. NINE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conflicted by her emotions, Winry makes a terrible mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not condone the acts depicted in this chapter/story. Strong sexual situations ahead!

Winry reached the yellow house first. She left the front door wide open and rushed upstairs, straight to her room. The rampant gale didn’t end inside the bedroom. Winry haphazardly grabbed her robe from the closet and headed back out. She almost forgot to lock the door in her rush to enter the bathroom. It was relieving to hear the springs pushing the bolt into the small recess of the frame, placing a secure barrier between her and Edward. 

Images of his contrite expression kept her company while she undressed. 

Winry dumped the muddied clothes inside the hamper then moved across the small space and stepped into the shower. She turned the faucet handle to the left—all the way to cold. 

Edward Elric vanished from her thoughts the moment the freezing spray made contact with her skin. 

Winry gasped and shivered as she waited for the initial shock to subside. She hated having to resort to such drastic measures, but it wasn’t so much about what she wanted as what she needed at the moment. She put her head under the spray once her body had adjusted to the cold temperature, and let the mud covering part of her face and neck to slide down her body. Winry took the bar of soap and the loofa and began scrubbing away. 

After she dried herself, she put on her robe and slid back into the master bedroom with the skill of a seasoned burglar. 

 

 

With lock fastened in place, Winry turned around, and rested her back against the flat wooden surface. She let out her breath in a long sigh of relief, just as she folded her arms under her ample bosom. Another sigh slipped past her lips. Unlike the other, this exhale denoted contentment; it appeared that the cold shower did some good.

Winry pushed away from the door and sauntered towards the dresser from where she took a lovely pair of lace panties and a white silk slip. She took her robe off and folded it over the backrest of the vanity chair, then put her panties on and slid the nightgown over her body before heading to bed. 

As she sat on the edge of the mattress, Winry noticed that she was still was wearing her wedding ring. She stood up with the intention of leaving it on the glass ring holder, but stopped. Instead, she stared at that cherished piece of jewelry. 

Her lips drew into a thin line that quickly transformed into a deep scowl when she was reminded of what the wedding ring symbolized. The promise of eternal love and loyalty would’ve been broken if that second car hadn’t been traveling down the dirt road when it did. 

Winry turned her attention over to the wedding picture sitting on the dresser across the room. 

Seeing the happy newlyweds convinced her to keep the ring on.

No longer being able to look at the picture, Winry decided to sit back on the edge of the bed. She idly stared at the wall, twisting the ring on her finger as she gazed into nothingness, before turning in for the night. 

Just a couple of minutes had passed by before she fixed her attention to the ceiling above, but unlike with the wall, the white expanse was proving to be relaxing. With luck, she would rest. 

 

* * *

 

Winry was sure that the alarm clock was mocking her, stretching the minutes like taffy. She draped an arm across her eyes in hopes that forcing them close would result in actual sleeping. She needed to shut down so she wouldn’t have to think about what had happened earlier that evening—

About Edward’s warm body pressed against hers.

She let out a shivering breath.

Logic told her that Edward was only trying to shield her from harm, but with his actions, he indelibly conjured something else. Edward might not be an alchemist in the sense of the word, but this didn’t stop him from creating magic. He somehow managed to gather all the necessary ingredients to fashion a moment in time where nothing else mattered, but them. 

Her heart raised just by thinking about this. 

The restlessness growing inside her chest finally got Winry to move. She sat on the bed, bringing her legs close and resting her chin on her bent knees. 

The mental image of Pinako Rockbell captured Winry’s full attention when it decided to make its way to the front of her mind. She wondered what her dead grandmother would think of the tug-of-war inside her heart. 

_You’re playing with fire, child,_ Pinako answered without hesitation.

Winry brought her knees closer to her chest. 

Her thoughts shifted to the culprit of her distress: Edward Elric. She almost snorted with self-contempt when the memory of his strong arms wrapped around her waist made her heart flutter. A rueful smile then slashed across her face, and she recognized in her the voracious nature of desire. She couldn’t help but to chuckle darkly at the irony of it.

If only they had enjoyed each other when they had the chance, Winry thought, but at the time they chose to do the right thing and kept their courting innocent and chaste.

…now there she was…

…wanting to turn back time… 

She had wanted to quench that desire ever since Edward came home after defeating Father. 

Just thinking about Edward buried deep inside her was enough to bring pleasure to her tightening core— 

”Dammit—!” Winry grabbed a fistful of her hair as she swore under her breath.

The uneasiness brewing in her heart, made her get off the bed. Guilt guided her to the dresser, where her wedding picture stood tall. At first, she hesitated touching the frame fearing that it would somehow become tainted with her treacherous thoughts. Nevertheless, she sucked in a breath and picked it up. 

Winry swept a finger across the thin glass surface. 

“Alphonse…” The name barely made it out of her mouth. 

Her eyes studied the young man in the picture, thinking about how she had given him her all. Alphonse was supposed to be her one and only, yet there she was, doubting everything she believed in—

Winry shook her head vigorously. 

“What the hell am I thinking—Alphonse _is_ my all!”

The impulse of telling Edward to leave returned tenfold. 

She had decided to wait until the morning to gently break the news to him, but she realized that now was as good time as any. Winry placed the picture frame back in its rightful place before picking up the robe from the vanity chair. She fastened the belt around her waist tightly as she armed herself with valor. 

Winry took a steadying breath then opened the door to her room. She headed out the door, down the hallway and towards the guest room.

 

 

About three minutes had already passed by since Winry decided to storm out of the master bedroom. It was three minutes of her time that she had wasted by pacing aimlessly in front of the door. 

At the four minute marker, Winry stopped walking altogether. 

All the walking in the world wasn’t going to calm her nerves. Winry knew she was on the brink of chickening out, but she sucked in a long breath and yanked the door open. 

She barged into the room, unannounced, only to find herself in the most unfavorable of situations.

 

* * *

 

From the water beads gliding down the ends of his loose wet mane (beads that were also traveling down his well-toned torso) to the bath towel riding low on his hips: Winry couldn’t help but to glow red as she gawked at Edward. She had completely forgotten to knock on the door when she decided to enter the room to have a talk with him, and now she stood in front of this delectable half-naked man, frozen in place, and with a brain that ceased functioning. 

But Winry’s brain begun giving signs of life after the initial shock had passed. She couldn’t speak though, as words somehow got stuck in the back of her throat. She succeeded encouraging her brain to send signals to her legs so she could turn around and flee from that awkward (and potentially disastrous) moment. 

Before she had a chance to turn around and escape, a strong hand had caught hold of one of hers. 

Edward’s fingers gently entwined with hers while his mesmerizing amber eyes completed ensnaring her. 

Winry felt giddy. She wanted to run back to her room but couldn’t find the will to do so. What she came in to say had faded into thin air. 

Edward wasn’t just holding her hand, in a way, he was also holding her heart. Now this hand of his was tugging hers, and along with it, the rest of her body. 

Powerful arms quickly wrapped around her shivering form.

“Stay with me,” Edward whispered his sinful wish close to her ear. 

Shocked, Winry pulled away from his arms just enough for her to see the desire etched in his radiant eyes. 

Her heart began pounding hard against her ribcage, leaving her breathless and delirious. 

Edward pressed her close to his chest, and she realized that he was in a great state of agitation, just like her. 

The voice of conscience began protesting in the back of her head, reminding her about the loyalty she once vowed to Alphonse. But unfortunately, the message turned into a mass of gibberish lost to the frenzy of her emotions. 

Without putting much to into it, Winry pressed her nose to Edward’s bare chest and inhaled his intoxicating aroma: the scent of musk and machine oil; of citrus and patchouli. 

She exhaled a shivering breath.

At that point, Winry didn’t care much of what could become of them if they continued. She raised to her tiptoes and pressed her hungry mouth against his.

Edward was just as hungry. Winry had let go of his mouth and he found himself recapturing hers.

And they kissed each other as if their very lives depended on it. 

They devoured each other with primal need: lapping and pulling at each other’s lips, plunging their tongues into one another with an urgency more intense than in their teenage years. 

Edward nipped Winry’s lower lip before pulling back to take a look at her. He didn’t speak for it could break the magnificent spell that they both were under. 

There was no necessity for words, his eyes were expressing his intentions. 

And Winry listened with great attention. Her own eyes offered him a favorable answer, because she wanted this to happen as much as he did. 

It was all he needed to know.

Without any warning, Edward gently pushed Winry backwards, pressing her against the closest thing around: the wall next to the closet. 

The light fabric of her robe did little to keep the cool surface from making her gasp; Edward took the opportunity to pin her. The contrast between his warm body and the cold wall sent Winry’s senses into overdrive. 

Edward didn’t give her a chance to come down from that high. He rolled his hips against her as he kissed her so Winry could feel his growing need. 

This simple act sent waves of pleasure down her spine and into her core. 

Drunk on desire, Winry ran a hand down his smooth bare chest, past his shallow navel. The hand reached the edge of his towel—the last line of resistance before diving into sin. 

Their eyes connected one more time, and consented, and with that, Winry pulled the towel off. 

The piece of terry cloth pooled at his feet. Winry’s breath hitched; nothing in her life could’ve prepared her for that moment. 

All inhibitions were lone gone, so the hand that had unfastened Edward’s towel, now went lower. Edward hissed with pleasure when her hand traveled along his erect length, slowly squeezing it as she neared the tip. Winry stroked gently; the pad of her thumb spread his clear moisture every time it circled the small slit. 

Edward was so hard and heavy against her hand that it was making her own core tighten. It didn’t take long for her panties to get humid with her moisture. 

Edward’s control, which had been steady so far, was beginning to crumble. He threw his head back, and rolled his hips, jerking himself with her hand. His mouth slowly hung open as he moved, relishing on the divine sensation. He rolled his hips a few more times before completely pulling away from Winry’s grasp. 

He offered her a wolfish grin as he panted; it was his turn to take action.

His rapacious gaze hypnotized Winry, his hands worked on the knot of her robe, untying it with ease. Edward pushed the fabric apart—like a veil—exposing the silk slip dress that made Winry look like a goddess. He licked his lips, delighted with how her hardened nipples pushed against the velvety fabric. He wanted to see more of her natural beauty, so he slid off the robe from her shoulders, which Winry graciously let fall to the floor. He then cupped her face and stared into her eyes; they had acquired a gorgeous shade of sapphire. Edward smiled lovingly. He always dreamt about the day he would make love to her…

He captured her lips with utmost delicacy. Winry, in turn, dug her hands into his wet golden mane, deepening the kiss. He glided his hands down her velvety neck, and across her imposing clavicles, until they reached the thin strings holding her nightgown. His fingers went under the delicate strings, taking them with him and pushing them past the curve of her strong shoulders. Winry dropped both arms to the sides, the strings continued their descent, bringing the top of the nightgown along with them. Edward smiled tenderly when he was greeted by rosy pebbles and plump ivory skin. Winry’s ample bosom was exactly as he imagined it, and this joyful discovery left him craving for more. He cupped her breasts, one in each hand, and squeezed them gently. They felt heavy yet soft to the touch, which made his sex twitch with delight. Edward leaned down and pinched a pert nipple with his lips; Winry gasped. He moaned as his tongue circled her wrinkled areola; Winry cried louder. He drew more pleasure out of her when he latched onto the nipple. But Edward left the pert little pebble alone to recapture Winry’s delicious mouth. She quickly devoured his, a clear signal to continue. 

One of his hands slid lower, and moving about the valley of her waist and the hill of her hip until it found the treasure hidden between her trembling legs. 

Deft fingers pulled the fabric of her lace panties to one side. Winry shuddered with anticipation, and he smiled. His digits stroked back and forth over moistened lips before two of those digits sunk into her. Winry’s back arched as she cried out of pure pleasure. Edward decided to keep her in that heavenly state. 

The steady pace of his fingers made her whimper, and she cried out in pure ecstasy when he began rubbing her hardened pearl with the pad of his thumb. But it was all a tease. Edward removed his hand from her silken heat, leaving Winry breathless and needy. 

The primal need to be possessed, to be marked, burned fiercely within her; Edward acknowledged it. 

He pulled her undergarment halfway down her thighs, and she finished removing the piece of clothing, kicking it to the side. 

Edward, for fear of breaking the spell, decided to take Winry right were they stood. 

He ran his right hand down her back, past the small of her back, until it connected with her round behind. He groped the firm muscles before returning his hands to the front. Edward lowered himself, his legs slightly bent, and slid his right hand between Winry’s thighs, lifting her left leg as he positioned the hand under her knee. He then hooked his arm under and lifted the leg, leaving Winry fully exposed to him. The scent of her heated sex was driving him crazy, leaving him functioning on the most basic of instincts. Edward took hold of his aching flesh with his other hand and rubbed himself against her wet cleft. He grunted, enjoying Winry’s cries and savoring her delicious moist tightness as he filled her. 

It was electrifying sensation: their bodies connecting, finally becoming one.

Winry didn’t know how much she hungered for Edward until that moment. She could feel herself melting into pure ecstasy with every thrust and every caress. Edward kept his eyes trained on her face, his low moaning was fueled by the intense pleasure he drew out of her. He didn’t think that being inside Winry would feel this good, and could feel himself nearing his release. He didn’t want that, not yet, he needed to etch that sensation—that moment—into his mind for it could be the very last. Edward snapped his hips forward, pushing deeper into her, then stopped. The intense sense of fullness, and pressure put against her womb, made Winry howl, but she whined when Edward pulled out of her. He appeased her frustration with an ardent kiss. He devoured her already swollen lips and only parted from that delicious mouth to lose himself in the ocean of her eyes. Winry knew what he was doing, but she was greedy, and in her selfish need, she took his hardened flesh in her hand and began encouraging him. Edward reluctantly stopped her by removing himself from her hand; his ardent eyes told her how he wanted their encounter to end. 

In a one-two movement, Edward lifted Winry up, quickly hooking his other arm under the other knee. He straighted his legs for better support. Winry was light, and his body was strong, so having sex in a standing position could be possible between the two. But Edward was going to let gravity do some of the work. He positioned himself against her wet entrance, and lowered her body; his sex slid into her silken heat with ease. Winry cried out as her her hips moved on their own accord, the sensation of fullness was insanely gratifying. She sensed his smirk, but she was too drunk with passion to even care. Strong hands then cradled her firm behind. Edward pressed Winry against the wall for more support, and snapped his hips forward—hard—embedding himself even deeper into her. He then begun rolling his hips, and once steady, he picked up the pace. His nonstop thrusting was turning Winry into a shivering mass of sensation. Edward was penetrating her so deep that he was touching her quivering womb. Winry knew that her release was near. 

Edward’s breath starting to become labored so Winry helped him. She wrapped her arms around his strong neck (with one hand grabbing a fist of his damp hair) to support some of her weight. She also secured her ankles around the small of his back for better stability. The change made a difference because Edward increased the pace. 

Winry had never felt something so rough and intense in her life. She shamelessly cried out in pleasure close to his ear as Edward brought her to climax. Waves of pleasure pulsated along her walls and she screamed Edward’s name when she finally came; the invocation guided him to his release. 

Her womb was beyond famished and sucked everything Edward had to give. 

Winry closed her tired eyes and nudged her face in the nook of Edward’s sweaty neck as she rode out the remnants of her orgasm.

 

* * *

 

Winry still hid in the nook of his neck; their labored breaths were the only noise inside the room. She kept her eyes shut, that way she could ignore the world around her, ignore what they had done—ignore how much she had liked it. 

Edward was crushing Winry against the wall. He was too exhausted and didn’t know how much longer he could support her. 

“Winry,” Edward whispered tiredly to her ear. She didn’t answer but he felt her cringing when his voice disrupted tension amassing inside the room. 

“Winry,” Edward repeated, this time in a firmer tone. 

“Please let me down,” she said dryly; he let her down gently.

Winry’s legs wobbled as they adjusted to carrying her full weight; her brows dipped into a frown. 

She didn’t dare look at Edward while she covered her chest nor as she put her robe back on. She ignored the underwear, she just couldn’t touch it. That small piece of clothing, soaked with her moisture, screamed the sin that they just commited. 

Edward tried to touch one of her shoulders only to have his hand swatted away. 

Winry stared at him, she was on the verge of tears. 

“Please don’t go!” He said when Winry decided to leave his side.

It wasn’t his pleading but the desperation in his words that made Winry stop. She turned around to witness regret. 

“Winry, I—”

The tears that Winry was holding back, fell, and a small sob bobbed out of her throat.

Edward tried to console her—

“Just don’t—!” She screeched just before her voice cracked. She shook her head and left behind a trail of sobs as she ran back to the master bedroom.

 

* * *

 

Winry slammed the door to the room and slouched against it, the heavy weight of guilt made her knees buckle. She knelt on the cold wooden floor. She was in a complete state of arrest. 

What happened? She was supposed to go into the guest room and have a _talk_ with Edward not let him _fuck_ her as if she was a bitch in heat! 

Winry brought her hands to her face, and sobbed loudly when an image of Alphonse came forward. 

“Al—I—” She tried to apologize to his image but her voice broke into a wail. 

She grabbed fistfuls of her hair as she cried, lamenting what they had done.

 

 

Sin. 

They both had sinned against the person that they were supposed to love more than life itself. 

They had betrayed him in the lowest of forms—all because they coveted one another. 

Fresh tears gathered on Winry’s eyelids, tears that ran down her face as she bitterly wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This chapter has a commentary at Live Journal.](http://le-maleficent.livejournal.com/11210.html)
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> P.S. [¿Qué harías si te reencuentras con el amor de tu vida? / What will you do if you reunited with the love of your life? ](https://www.facebook.com/Diario24Horas/videos/1021596621218732/) is the video that inspired me to rewrite _Coveted_. There's a post in Live Journal that explains this better.


	10. TEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward pauses to think about what led him to his current predicament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a new chapter to the story. Enjoy!

Edward looked up at the neon sign (currently turned off) and groaned. God—how he hated Lolita’s. As luck would have it, that crappy dinner pinched between Main and Bradley was Alphonse’s favorite. 

Edward wiped off the frown from his face and opened the door; he shouldn’t keep Alphonse waiting. 

A good stretch of time had gone by since Edward last seen his younger brother. Nothing, not even that crummy place was going to ruin his good mood—he was going to see Alphonse! Although, if he was more sincere with himself, he would admit that a small part of him was somewhat reluctant of their reunion, it was silly, but he couldn’t help it. Alphonse begged for them to meet, and his younger brother isn’t the type of man who begs. 

The brass bell greeted Edward with a happy ding as he stepped inside. He took a good look around, but couldn’t see Alphonse anywhere. 

“What can I do you you, hon?” 

Edward cringed, recognizing the voice. 

“Hi, Delores!” He said the moment his golden eyes met with the curly-q, bubble gum smacking waitress that wrangled the busy place. 

“Hello, Handsome,” Delores replied in that sleek oily voice that always made Edward shudder.

Delores’ ebony eyes sparked in amusement. She folded her leathery arms under her tired breasts, just as a wolfish smile grew on her face.

Edward forced a smile. 

“Is Alphonse around?” He asked, trying to avoid her rapacious stare as he scanned the place for a second time. 

The waitress brought a bony finger to her chin, and paused to think. “No, hon, Gorgeous isn’t here yet.”

Edward cursed under his breath. How dare she speak about Alphonse like that! 

He cleared his throat.

“Well,” he said, hiding his repulsion for the middle-aged woman as best as he could, “is our table available?”

Delores smirked. “Follow me.”

She escorted Edward to the far corner of the diner. 

A shiver ran up his spine when he catch her staring at his behind as he sat down—this was the sole reason why he hated that diner with all of his might. 

The loud pop of Delores’ bubble gum brought him back to the moment.

“I’ll be bringing your coffee just the way you like it, Handsome,” Delores offered before snapping her gum between her yellowing teeth. 

Edward gave her a quick nod of assent before ducking behind the worn menu.

“Hey, Brother!” 

Edward peeked from the side of the menu card and saw Alphonse heading his way; he put the menu down.

“You’re awfully chirpy this morning, Gorgeous,” Delores mentioned as she turned to greet the younger Elric.

“I’m sure are, Lori!” He all but giggled.

“My—you’re just so adorable!” Delores cupped a side of Alphonse’s face with a familiarity that made Edward’s jaw drop. 

“You should learn a thing or two from your brother, Handsome,” Delores rebuked as she turned her attention to him. 

Edward crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“So I’ve been told,” he ground out, petulantly, while shooting daggers at his embarrassed younger brother.

The waitress exchanged an amused look with the brothers before leaving their side. 

“I’ll bring your orders soon!” She said out loud before disappearing into the kitchen.

Edward mumbled some obscenities as Alphonse sat down. He picked up the menu, knowing that Delores hadn’t actually taken their order. He was about to call for her but Alphonse stopped him with a wave of his hand.

“Lori knows what we like,” Alphonse grinned. 

Edward hid his face in his hand. He will never get used to seeing his baby brother act so smooth around women—around any type of women.

“So how are you?” Alphonse asked, picking up the conversation where they left off.

He wondered then why Alphonse was all smiles.

 

 

Edward woke up with a start. He looked around, trying to recognize his surroundings. It didn’t take him long to remember that he was staying at the Rockbell house; he heaved a sigh of relief. 

He was running a hand along his tangled hair when it hit him: last night, he and Winry shared a night of unbridled passion in that room. His eyebrows met in a frown when he looked at the spot where it all happened. 

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he started to wake up out of the haze. The scene at Lotita’s came to mind as his thoughts became clearer. 

_That wasn’t a dream…_ Edward concluded, identifying the dream as a memory recall. 

He sighed. 

Edward brought his metal leg close to his chest and rested his chin on the cold kneecap. His expression turned forlorn, then unseeing, as his mind went back to that fateful day.

 

 

Like always, he and Alphonse engaged in an avid conversation: chatting about alchemy and alkahestry, then changing the subject to aviation engineering. Alphonse was as equally fascinated by the concept of flight as he was about alkahestry. Once his younger brother’s thirst for knowledge had been satisfied, they finished their chat by admitting to each other how much each missed the other. 

Their meetings were always the like that, but he knew that Alphonse was withholding something from him in that particular encounter. 

 

 

A sad smile crept to Edward’s face as memories of his brother’s first days back in his original body came rushing forward. 

He remembered Alphonse having difficulty adjusting to his body, and trying to figure him out had been exceptionally hard, something that got easier with each passing day. In the end, he had learned how to read his younger brother’s expressions. 

The way Alphonse’s mouth twitched when he spoke and the vivid green in his olive eyes, told Edward that his baby brother was pretty excited about something. 

On that fateful day, Edward wondered if this excitement had a name attached to it.

“So…” 

He remembered smirking and wiggling his eyebrows at his brother as he folded his arms and leaned over the table. 

Alphonse had cocked a questioning eyebrow at him, like he always did whenever he put him on the spot. 

Something was up, he could swear by his life on it. 

He remembered leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest and sporting a vainglorious grin that threatened to split his face in two. 

“Bean Girl got lucky, didn’t she?” He dropped his assumption like a bomb.

Oh, how he loved teasing his little brother! He had been so so into it that he completely missed the moment when Alphonse’s expression darkened. 

“No, Edward.” Somber words followed by a weak smile. 

Something was definitely up; Alphonse had called him by his name.

 

 

The chirping of a bird startled Edward. He looked towards the window, where the noise had come from, and saw a cardinal perched on the frame. It chirped again, its beady eyes were intensely staring back at him the same way Alphonse had stared at him that day in the diner. 

The curious bird decided to look about the room for a brief second before taking wings. 

Edward kept looking at the empty space, turning inwards, his thoughts returning to Lolita’s.

 

 

“No, Brother, nothing is wrong!” Alphonse had cried out when he started nagging. And he had believed his words until he noticed the tension mounting on his shoulders. 

He had thought the worse, like he always did with anything regarding his baby brother, and he resorted to emotional blackmail, like he always did when Alphonse didn’t want to cooperate.

“It’s about Winry.” His brother confessed after being thoroughly subjected to his techniques of persuasion.

But Alphonse’s answer only made him worry even more, he thought that something terrible had happened to Winry. His mind was spinning, playing out all sorts of crazy scenarios, except for the one that Alphonse was about to confide. 

“We’re going to get married.” 

It was funny how those words could still cut so deep. 

Edward could still feel the hard blow those words had inflected on him years ago. For a fraction of a second, he thought that Alphonse was playing with him, pulling a fast one on him, but he wasn’t. All he could do was to conceal his pain. 

He never asked how it happened, neither did he wanted to know; however, he did ask his precious brother if they were happy together, to which Alphonse responded with a rotund “yes”.

Even though it had hurt, he had been genuinely happy for Alphonse, and for Winry, to whom he had brought nothing but grief. He remembered congratulating Alphonse just as he went around the table to give him a big hug. 

Alphonse, like the caring brother that he is, had the decency to ask if he still loved Winry. 

“No,” he had answered, the lie slid out easier than he had expected. 

 

* * *

 

Edward swung his legs to the side of the bed and stood up. He lost some of his balance, it seemed like both pleasure and guilt had a hand in this, as they sucked what little was left of his strength. He dragged his feet to where his suit case stood, and brought it back to bed. He snapped the locks open, and opened the case, and dug through his clothes until he found what he was looking for. He clasped the article in his right hand—keeping it out of sight—then gingerly sat on the bed, right next to the suitcase. Once comfortable, he opened his hand to reveal a small velvet-covered box. The smooth fabric had been black at one point in time but now it was the color of rust and just as degraded. A wry smile crossed his tired face as he ran his thumb across the deteriorated surface.

Winry Rockbell will always be the love of his life. More than a decade had already passed by since he took upon himself to destroy any happiness he could’ve experience by her side. He hadn’t acted out of sheer malice, his mental problems had snatched away his ability to foresee a bright future together. 

 

 

The belief that he was unworthy to love or to be loved took a life of its own one miserable night in the winter of 1917. The ridiculous belief turned out to be like a weed: undesirable, unwanted and extremely predatory, and it spread throughout every cell of his being, only stopping its rampage once it set roots in his psyche. Afterwards, the corruption of his soul happened fast, and by the time spring settled in Resembool, he was plagued with conflict. It was during that same time when Alphonse proposed to expand their knowledge of alchemy by taking on new travels. He had intended to propose this himself but his younger brother beat him to it. 

The new journey was a godsend, it provided him with the opportunity of riding himself from the inner conflict that threatened to swallow him whole on a daily basis. The turmoil caused by these dark emotions did pull back as he jumped from town to town, giving way to the peace he was so desperately seeking. He should’ve known that dark emotions are unpredictable in nature. Major depression touched down on his soul like a tornado touches down on land, and just like a tornado, it left devastation behind. He wandered in darkness through long stretches of land, trying to find his way back to his soul. Every cloud has a silver lining and his was found on the far end of Creta. 

The tribal people of western Creta showed him how to reconnect with himself. They imparted their wisdom, morsels of knowledge that he took to heart. He left their side with better clarity of mind, and with the realization that alchemy was the key to reclaiming his life. 

Even more months were spent into finding ways to regain his ability to perform alchemy. 

In the blink of an eye, those months had turned into years, with no significant progress being made. It was then when he understood that he might never rid himself of the curse that had claimed his soul. With such corruption governing every aspect of his life, he couldn’t offer Winry what he had promised her at the train station one beautiful spring morning. 

Letting her go had been one of the hardest things he had ever done, but he wasn’t going to marry Winry, defective as he was, because he would end up abandoning her. And turning into Hohenheim would prove to be much harder to bear than the sum of all his mental problems.

With her image still burning vividly in his mind, Edward opened the velvet box, inside, an engagement ring sadly greeted him. 

 

 

Winry’s engagement ring had been crafted by one of the best jewelers in the west. It had been an ironic coincidence that the ring was in his possession days before his meeting with Alphonse. He had planned on showing it to his little brother at Lolita’s. He even was going to ask Alphonse for his advice about how to win Winry’s favor, but he didn’t get a chance to do so. 

Edward glared at the platinum ring. It was almost obsessive-compulsive the way he handled it: taking it out of his suitcase, sitting down, opening the box and peering inside. But this pointless act was his penance for throwing happiness away. Every time he opened that damn box he wondered why he didn’t speak up and told Alphonse about his true feelings for Winry, if he had done so, then what happened hours ago would’ve been right, it would’ve been husband and wife having a fucking good rump. 

Edward scoffed at himself, remembering how those feelings of worthlessness had made him choke up on his own words at Lolita’s. His chest had tighten as an insidious voice inside his head cackled. The voice mocked him, tortured him and reminded him of the scum that he was. It drilled into his head that _he was not_ the better man, Alphonse was. Even to this day, he couldn’t deny that the malicious voice was right. Alphonse was a beacon of light whereas he was but a mere shadow. How was he supposed to compete with that? So on that fateful day at Lotita’s, he swallowed the lump in his throat and smiled wide for his little brother. On that fateful day, he willingly chose to suffer his loss in silence. And he told himself that he was going to be okay.

 

 

It was on the day of their wedding when he realized the gravity of his folly. He felt something deep inside of him break the moment Alphonse lifted Winry’s veil and sealed the bond of matrimony with a kiss. 

Alcohol was his only confidant on that long day. 

Like a hummingbird going from flower to flower feasting on precious nectar, he went from server to server picking up wine, whiskey and beer, so he could drown his senses—maybe even ignore the looks of pity people gave him at the wedding reception. The moment the newlyweds parted for their honeymoon was also the moment he left the venue. He didn’t leave alone; during the course of the night he made damn sure to seduce one the servers—the blonde one with the pretty blue eyes, just not as pretty as Winry’s—and they made their way to the storehouse. Between food shelves, wine bottles and crates, he lost his virginity and what was left of his soul in one single swoop. 

After the wedding, he spent years wandering from place to place, from country to country. He had given hope on restoring his alchemy, on restoring his sense of self. Everything was destroyed after Winry married his own brother. 

One day, he managed to come out of the mental fog he had succumbed to, and remembered what he once told Rose after her world came crashing down.

_“Walk on your own. Move forward. You’ve got a good strong pair of legs—you should get up and use them.”_

And so he did. 

Milos became the place where he found a new purpose to keep moving forward.  
.

 

* * *

 

Edward never imagined that the day he decided to buy a train ticket to Resembool would be the day that would forever change his current life. Nothing could’ve prepared him for that fateful encounter with Winry, and he should’ve declined her offer to stay when he still had a chance, but he didn’t.

“Heh…” Edward sneered at himself, replaying in his mind the precise moment where he changed the course of destiny.

And he wasn’t going to pin the blame on Winry. He saw an opportunity and took it, as simple as that. Thanks to that selfish impulse, the days that followed had been heaven. 

From day one he fell prey to his most intimate desires. In the back of his head, a fantasy begun taking life. He created an idyllic world, where he was Winry’s husband, and her, his wife. And everything was just as it should’ve been. 

Years of living dangerously had taught him the value of patience and self-restraint, but being around the object of his affection wasn’t easy. Many times he came very close to spilling words of love, and he almost succumbed to this desire the night Winry walked into Alphonse’s study, but he stopped himself, because it wasn’t fair to her. He was eight years too late. 

The Annual Sheep Festival became a turning point in this fantastic world of his own devise. The festivities, with its flashing bright lights, its gaudy games and its artery-clogging food, sent him on a journey back in time to a simpler time, a happier time, and he felt seventeen again. His self-restraint finally caved in, so he took Winry by the hand, and walked the festival grounds holding hands, just like he had done so many years in the past. Mirroring the last only helped to ignite old passions; the conflicted look in Winry’s face said it all. It was time to put an end to the fantasy.

But sometimes life takes an unexpected turn.

He was only thinking of Winry’s safety when he pulled her by the hand and wrapped her in his arms, removing her from immediate danger. The embrace itself posed more danger than the inconsiderate driver. 

The way Winry held on to him confirmed how she really felt. He had suspected attraction, but nothing else, because Winry wasn’t the type of woman that would fool around, and yet, when she entered his room, he hoped she would. 

What a pleasant surprise it turned out to be when Winry stayed. He should’ve stopped everything right there, but his primal need trumped over everything else. And he found himself wanting her, coveting her. 

 

 

Making love to Winry was as amazing as he thought it would be. She was his, if only for an instant. 

Their lovemaking had been intense, but a part of him was not fully in the moment. That elusive portion was preoccupied with the notion that his younger brother had been the one who had her first. He began feeling possessive as he took her, and at some level, he found himself competing with his baby brother. He wanted to mark Winry in a way that she would only think of him every time she engaged in the act. Yes, he was being irrational, but it is irrationality what feeds the thought process of covetous man. A part of him still wishes that time would’ve just stopped so their sinful union would be eternal. 

Edward looked away from the ring. He felt disgusted with himself, but only at a basic level, because deep inside, he was unrepentant. He would do it all over again if Winry gave him the chance.

“Winry…” Edward whispered, wondering how Winry was faring. 

He left her alone, just like she requested, but he wasn’t going to let her avoid him all day long. They needed to sit down and talk about what they had gotten themselves into. 

Edward knew where he stands; there was no way he was going to keep the affair hidden from Alphonse. His little brother had a right to know, he had the right to pass judgement. Alphonse was going to learn about the affair, but he was also going to learn about his undying love for Winry, because this time he wasn’t going to hold back like he did at Lotita’s. 

Only destiny will tell how their lives were going fare from that point onward. 

The sun was shining strong. Edward snapped the velvet box close and buried it in his clothes. He locked the suit case but not before taking out a fresh set of clothes. 

He went to the door. His heart raced, but he needed to be strong. 

The springs of the doorknob wound tight as he turned handle. 

Edward headed to the bathroom to freshen up then went to the living room. He was going to wait for Winry, so they could talk about the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This chapter has a commentary at Live Journal.](http://le-maleficent.livejournal.com/12079.html)


	11. ELEVEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winry makes a hard decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear reader, the next upload will be in around two weeks (depends on work load, actually). Thanks for all your support!
> 
> Chapter Warning: Mild Adult Content and Violence. I do not condone what happens in this chapter.

Winry didn’t remember at what point she fell asleep, she only opened her eyes because the sun was on them. She blinked a couple of times only to find them sandy and burning. This didn’t surprised her at all; she had cried for the longer part of the night. 

Winry laid on the floor, with her back to the door. Her body was stiff and her neck ached from sleeping on the cold hardwood surface. She didn’t mean to fall asleep where she lay; she had literarily passed out from crying. At first, Winry struggled to stand up, but once she did, she decided to go to the bathroom. She opened the door to her room as silently as possible, by no means she wanted to alert Edward that she was awake. 

As Winry padded down the hallway, she noticed that the door to the guest room was open. That damn curiosity of hers got the best of her—again—and she walked towards the room. When Winry peeked inside, she saw everything tidy, even the bedsheets were nicely folded. She noticed that Edward’s belongings were gone leaving her wondering if he had left. A part of her wished that would be the case. 

A soft sigh escaped her lips. She turned on a heel, pussyfooting to the bathroom, just in case Edward was still in the house; the last thing she wanted right now was to run into him. She was not emotionally prepared for that, not yet. 

Winry entered the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She quickly disrobed and stepped into the shower. The smell of sex reminded her of her slip. Winry bit her lip, hoping that the pain would distract her less than kind thoughts. She ran the shower curtain close then opened the faucet—all the way to hot. It didn’t take long for the scalding water to burn her ivory skin. 

She stayed under the hot spray until it hurt, and it wasn’t until she whimpered that she turned the spray off. Winry touched a patch of red skin as she heaved. 

_What the hell am I thinking!_

Hurting herself wasn’t going to make up for what happened the night before! She shut her eyes close, mentally scolding herself for her stupidity. After she calmed down, she opened the faucet at a proper setting. She closed her sandy eyes and stepped under the spray and begun scrubbing the sin away.

 

 

Winry stood in front of the bathroom mirror, eyes trained at her reflection. She sneered at the woman looking back at her. Her bright blue eyes looked dull, her expression was twisted. The woman’s appearance screamed “adulterer!” That adulterer was her…

Winry looked away.

Adultery was something that she frowned upon. She never understood how people could disrespect their spouses so despicably. Those type of people were nothing but scum. 

_I’m scum…_ she thought, her face twisting with self-loathing.

As much as she hated herself at the moment, Winry needed to move on with her life. She turned the brass handle open and waited for the pipes to flush out the air trapped in them. As she did, she ran her tongue across her teeth; she could still taste Edward. Winry ignored the wave of displeasure made her scrunched her nose and picked up her toothbrush. She pretended not to notice the space that Alphonse’s toiletries occupied next to her things and began brushing her sinful mouth clean.

 

 

The short walk back to the master bedroom felt too long. Winry walked ten feet of worn cherrywood completely naked because she forgot to bring a clean set of clothes with her. But the walk of shame felt befitting to her sin. As Winry treaded down the hallway, she imagined people—the people of Resembool—looking down on her. In between the imaginary crowd stood her grandmother with her scrutinizing eyes, eyes that looked at her with shame. She ignored the haunting figures and opened the door to her (and Alphonse’s) room. 

Winry got dressed without looking at her image in the mirror. When she finished, she walked to the bed. She sunk on the cushioned mattress and sat there with unseeing eyes. At least her mind was leaving her at peace. Winry stayed sheltered in the stillness of the room for a long while. Eventually, her gaze trailed to the picture frame that sat on the bedroom dresser. And her eyes watered. 

The picture inside the frame wasn’t an ordinary glamour shot. That particular picture showed Alphonse fighting his way through the thick of her wedding dress skirt as he tried to reach for the garter. A weak smile appeared on Winry’s face as she reminisced about that priceless memory. 

Unfortunately, she couldn’t remain in the moment for long; hot tears began running down her cheeks. 

_He didn’t deserve this…_ Winry thought as she dried her face with the back of her hand. 

A dark chuckle chased away the silence dwelling inside the room, more chuckling followed, and soon Winry found herself unable to stop. She was being hysterical, but then again, why shouldn’t she be? She had strayed! She had sinned! Dammit—she did things that went against her morals! 

_But that isn't entirely true,_ her conscience finally spoke, and the hysterical laughter ceased. Winry’s face hardened as she contemplated that thought.

The subtle flirting, the yearning looks, the inadequate touches—the voice was right. All this time, she had been deluding herself. The truth was that she enjoyed all of it—hell—it would’ve been a genuine surprise if she hadn’t given herself to Edward at all.

A sad smile spread across her face. 

Her thoughts went to that heavenly moment when they became one: their bodies united, their souls clamoring for one another, communing in the most intimate of ways.

And it had felt so right, so—

Winry gasped. 

“I love him—no—” she realized, but that was not right. “I never stopped loving him,” she corrected herself. 

Winry then wondered if it was possible to love two people at the same time. She let out a heavy sigh, already knowing the answer to that question. The Elric brothers: friends-turned-to-lovers and the cause of her delirium. The townspeople _did_ always say that the brothers were cursed—maybe they are—after all, _both_ brought about her downfall.

“Yet they are my all…” 

Winry hid her face in her two hands. 

_I love them both…even if it isn’t right…_ she hiccuped.

It was a terrible reality to admit but the worse part was that she had them both. If Edward and Alphonse were cursed then what was she—? Scourged? Most likely, after all:

 _She was_ the epicenter of this disaster. 

_She was_ the creator of an unindented love triangle–

Winry felt her chest tightening. 

No matter from what angle she looked at it, she knew she had gotten herself into quite a mess. 

_It’s no use crying over spilled milk._ Her grandmother’s wise words resounded inside her head.

For the first time that day, a true smile, as small as it was, crowned her face. As always, her grandmother was right, moping around wasn’t going to solve anything. What she needed to do was to right her wrongs. She didn’t know how this was going to happen, given the circumstances, but she knew that she needed to do something about it. Her eyes darkened for a second; it looked like she would have to play it by ear.

Winry lowered her hands and settled her eyes on the gold wedding band gracing her ring finger. It was painful to be reminded of the sacred vow she broke a few hours ago, but she needed to see past her sin. It took a while, but Winry gathered enough courage to exit the room. With or without Edward present, it was time to face the music.

 

* * *

 

“We need to tell Al.”

Winry hadn’t yet set a foot on the first floor when she was confronted by those dreadful words. It wasn’t so much Edward’s words but the cold way he said them what made her flinch. She somehow pushed past the initial reaction; her expression automatically darkened. She had planned to go into the kitchen first, and nurse her wavering resolve with some strong coffee, but Edward ruined it for her. 

Winry stepped off the stairs, her heart pounding harder and harder as she approached the living room, from where Edward’s voice had come from. She sucked in a breath before stepping into view. 

The bright morning light flooding through the windows hurt her tired eyes, making her squint for a brief second. As her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she noticed that Edward was sitting on Granny’s old lazy chair. Winry had to move about the room to see Edward’s face since the chair was located in front of the window. She skirted around the coffee table, her icy stare finally crossing lines with tarnished gold.

It took Winry by surprise to see Edward looking so disheveled. His eyes were dull and hanging heavy with guilt. His face was unshaven and his hair was set into a messy braid. His clothes looked scrappy as if they have never seen an iron. It seemed like Edward had a rough night too. Her eyes caught a glimpse of his suitcase peeking from behind the lazy chair. Seeing the suitcase gave her some relief; at least Edward was taking the initiative to leave the house on his own accord.

Winry sat on love-seat opposite to Edward. She let herself down gingerly and didn’t take her eyes away from him as she sat. Once she got settled on the small sofa, she rested her hands on her knees, then her cold stare turned glacial.

She took a deep breath before saying, “Al doesn’t need to know.” 

Her words were simple but lethal. 

Winry studied every detail of his face as it went from shock to hurt to downright anger.

Edward grasped the armrests tightly. 

“I’m not going to keep this from him!” He bellowed, slashing the air when he threw a furious hand to the side. 

Winry’s lips curled into a snarl just before saying, “And what would telling him accomplish—? Tell me!” 

Her whole body shook, and her lower lip now quivered with muted anger. 

“It shouldn’t have happened—” She followed in a harsh whisper.

Her glaring eyes slid to the centerpiece sitting on the coffee table—a glass orb with bits of colored glass weaved into it. Winry began playing with her wedding band as she lost herself in the emerald folds of the centerpiece, awaiting for Edward to retaliate.

Edward was astounded by the sordid words; a much different scenario had been playing in his mind. An internal set of defenses went up, and his amber eyes narrowed in contempt. 

"You’re right, Winry, it shouldn’t have happened,” he snarled, baring his teeth at her, _“but it fucking happened!”_

Winry slid her eyes to Edward only to find that a smug smile was spreading across his face. Edward was taking the offensive. 

“I’m glad that _it_ happened, _Win_ ,” Edward goaded.

Winry’s face fell. The audacity of that man! She looked away, clenching her teeth. After a short pause, she flashed her eyes at Edward.

“And _I_ regret that _it_ happened, _Edward!_ ”

The conversation had turned vicious. 

“What are you talking about?” Edward sneered. “You certainly weren’t showing much regret last night—I mean, with the way you were moaning—you sure had me fooled!” 

“How dare you!” Winry growled; she was starting to see red. 

Her eyes connected with the glass orb. Without much thought, Winry stood up and grabbed it and threw it hard at Edward, who barely had time to duck as it flew past him. 

Anger ignited his golden eyes. He stormed towards Winry and grabbed her by a wrist. 

“Let go!”

Winry tried to pull herself free, when that didn’t happen, she slapped Edward hard across the face. This only made him angrier, and in his altered state, he squeezed her wrist with bruising force. 

“You bastard!” Winry shrieked, wincing in pain. “Dammit—you’re hurting me!” 

Edward quickly let go of her wrist, and gasped, horrified about what he had done. Fear caught hold of his emotions, and in a desperate move, he wrapped Winry in a crushing hug. She thrashed against his chest even threatened him to let her go. She cussed at him but he wasn’t going to let go. 

“I’m sorry,” Edward repeated over and over, holding her tight as he apologized. “You left me no other choice,” Edward whispered softly to her ear. “Please forgive me…” He felt Winry relax in his arms and he loosened his grip. “I am so sorry,” he said, making her choke on a sob.

Winry buried her face against his shoulder and wept; all he could do was to be there for her. 

After everything they had shared…why did it have to end like this?

 

 

A long stretch of time went by before Edward pulled Winry away from his arms. She looked calm now, dejected, but calm. He held her sorrowful gaze as he wiped a stray tear from her cheek. 

“You have every right to be angry, Winry,” he admitted. “I had no right to treat you so horribly,“ he added, but then, his face turned serious. 

“Last night…I know what I saw…and I know what I felt from you.” Her eyes narrowed at those words. “You can deny it all you want, Winry, but I know you love me.”

Winry looked away. He was right, she never stopped loving him, what happened the night before was prove of this. But admitting to those feelings was one thing and continuing to act upon them was something entirely different. 

She clenched her fists hard enough that she felt Alphonse’s ring around her finger. 

She can let herself feel love for Edward, but she swore loyalty to Alphonse, and her husband will always come first. Alphonse Elric was a great man—a precious human being. He was a devoted husband who simply adores her. To even think about how she had betrayed this love of his— 

Winry grasped the fabric of his wrinkled shirt and looked into his eyes; her own began to glaze with fresh tears.

“If I say that I do, would that make you feel better? Would that make everything better?”

Winry let go of his shirt, and took a step back; her face darkened. 

“You had your chance—”

“Winry—” Edward cut her off. He didn’t want to hear it—he had been paying for that mistake for far too long!

“Let me finish!” She bellowed and drew back from him. 

“I wanted to marry you—” 

Her voice cracked with the admission but she quickly recovered. She had forgiven Edward for what he did years ago but she simply couldn’t forget. Bitter tears ran down her flushed cheeks, tears she quickly dried with the back of her hands. Her eyes became unseeing and Edward noticed something obscure brewing behind her dejected gaze. Winry came back to the moment only to offer him a cold stare.

“It’s funny how life works,” she started saying, but choked on a bitter laugh. “I didn’t get to be your wife but I certainly got to be your mistress.” 

Her devastating words provided the mortal blow to their brief affair. 

Edward couldn’t blink—heck—he could barely even breathe. 

_How could I have been so stupid?_ He told himself, finally realizing the grave consequences of his actions.

He had hurt his brother by stealing what wasn’t his all while corrupting the woman he blatantly proclaimed to love. He couldn’t help but to feel unutterably sorry for all the pain he’s caused. 

“Winry—I—” 

He could feel his own eyes beginning to water but he wasn’t going shed one single tear; he didn’t deserve such release.

Edward did close the gap between them, and held an inconsolable Winry in his arms one last time. He swallowed the lump in his throat and whispered. “I love you.” 

Winry gasped.

Even though he didn’t deserve it, her reaction made him secretly smile. He planted a sweet kiss on top of her head before pulling back. He looked at her with deep sympathy. 

“I won’t tell, Al,” he promised. 

The sense of relief that overcame Winry was something his heart couldn’t handle. Edward offered her a contrite smile before taking a step back. He forced another smile before turning on his heel to fetch his luggage. 

Winry kept to herself as Edward headed out of the living room. He stopped shy of entering the hallway. 

Looking over his shoulder, he said, “I’m truly happy it happened, Winry.” 

He sealed his words with a wide grin. His expression was almost an exact replica to the one she had seen the day Edward arrived at her house.

There was nothing else to say, so Edward turned around and disappeared from her sight.

 

 

Winry heard the front door open and close. Her eyes went to the space where Edward had been occupying. 

Memories of all the wonderful moments they spent together began replaying in her head, keeping her company. A deep sense of grief took hold of her being. The sentiment was so intense that it made her knees weak. Winry walked to the lazy chair and sank on it. 

She hid her face in her hands. With the image of Edward still fresh in her head, she let out a heartbreaking wail. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This chapter has a commentary at Live Journal.](http://le-maleficent.livejournal.com/13417.html)


	12. TWELVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Windy tries to adjust to a life of deceit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warning: Mild Adult Content. I do not condone what happens in this chapter.
> 
> Posting early due to birthday weekend. Happy Valentine's Day!

The door to Rockbell Automail creaked as it was pushed open. Winry winced; the sharp sound somehow felt like nails scraping a chalkboard. She rubbed her temples, trying to comfort her throbbing head.

“Hello…?”

At least the customer’s voice sounded pleasant to the ears. 

“Mrs. Rockbell, are you here?”

Winry sighed. At the moment, she was hiding in the back of the shop, sorting screws, nuts and bolts delivered straight from Rush Valley. She pushed the chair backwards as she rose, the metal legs screeched against the concrete floor, adding more fuel to the pounding in her head.

“I’ll be there in a moment!” She replied only to wince; even hearing the pitch her of own voice hurt.

Before heading to the front of Rockbell Automail, Winry dragged her miserable self to the bathroom tucked on the far end of the basement where the stairs connected to the kitchen. She flipped the light switch on only for her eyes to curse at her for the sharp change in light. 

_Migraine,_ she concluded, seeing that her sight shared the same vulnerabilities as the vampires she had seen in moving pictures. At least she wasn’t going to turn to ash like those accursed beings.

Winry made an effort to look at her counterpart in the small mirror. She had to make sure she looked presentable enough before attending Tyrell, her two o’clock appointment. 

Overall, she looked okay, but she did notice that her eyes were still puffy. 

“No surprise there,” she scoffed, thinking about the river of tears she left behind in the living room after Edward’s departure. 

Winry kept looking at her reflection, moving her head from side to side, looking for other telltale signs that she had been crying. She found none. If Tyrell made a comment about the puffiness, she could say that she was having a bad case of allergies. Another lie wouldn’t make a difference at this point in time. She opened the tap to cold and splashed some water on her face hoping it would revive her a little; it didn’t. She dried her face with a paper towel, and tossed it into the trash can before heading to the front of the shop.

 

* * *

 

Winry gingerly let the telephone receiver sink into the base before dropping down into the chair. She closed her aching eyes, and clasped her hands about her throbbing head, digging her fingers into her flaxen hair as she tried to relax. 

_What a day…_ She groused in silence as she rested her back on the wooden chair.

She had just finished canceling the last appointment for the day, a decision she had to make after hurting Tyrell during his checkup. It had been foolish of her to think that she could work with a raging migraine.

 _You should be ashamed, girl._ Her late grandmother’s voice decided to grace her with its presence. 

Winry curled into herself and sighed. She hated life at the moment. 

It didn’t take long for her inner voice to join her grandmother’s reproaching. Winry tried to pointlessly ignore the voice, but no one can really escape from their own thoughts, so she ended listening and consequently agreeing with it.

“At least Tyrell is an understanding man.” Winry kept telling herself.

Tyrell knew that the severe jolt of pain had been accidental, and he had been more than happy to come back at a later date. Of course he was going to take full advantage of the “sorry for all the inconvenience I caused you” upgrade she promised him. 

Winry pursed her lips. Thinking about that major blunder worsened her migraine. She stood up and went to the kitchen. 

She took a cup from the cabinet and set it next to the refrigerator. She then took the water pitcher out of the fridge, and with shaky hands, she poured some water into the cup. She put the pitcher back inside the fridge and closed the door. 

Winry stared at the cup, baffled at how the migraine had zapped all her strength. With that thought in mind, she dipped a hand inside the left pocket of her overalls. 

It had been a good idea to bring some medication with her in the first place otherwise it would’ve been a real challenge to climb the stairs as exhausted as she was. Winry took two white pills out of the pocket. A sarcastic chuckle welled up and rippled through her chest when she realized the pills belonged to the batch she had ordered for Edward. 

_Ed…_ She thought wryly as she contemplated the pills.

Mental images of their last moments together came forward. Her brow tensed, and her lips tightened into a thin line.

 _Oh, Ed…_

Winry stared off into the distance, clasping the pills tightly in her hand. She was ashamed about how poorly she’d conducted herself in the living room. Her callousness against Edward had been short of deplorable, yet this act of cruelty was necessary, for it had been the lesser of two evils. 

The need to protect Alphonse—no matter the cost—presented itself to her the moment Edward called her into the living room. Only one thought crossed her mind as she sat on the love-seat: Alphonse was going to come back to the good and honest wife he had left back home before heading for Xing. 

What she demanded from Edward was outrageous. The imposition could easily sever his relationship with his adored younger brother, but it was a small price to pay when compared with exposing the devastating truth. And she had been so relieved when Edward agreed to keep the affair a secret that tears almost sprung from her eyes. 

_So selfish of me…_ Winry thought wryly.

But after all that’s happened between them, she couldn’t help but to feel entitled to this selfishness. It was better to hold on to denial than to face the painful reality. She only saw the errors of her way when Edward expressed how he had always felt. 

“I love you.” Those three words almost destroyed her resolve. 

As Edward held her, she begun to question her decision to stay by Alphonse’s side, but the answer to that question never saw the light of day because it got stuck to the back of her throat. And Edward left without knowing that she loved him too. 

Winry opened her hand and gave the pills one last look before popping them into her mouth and chasing them with water. 

She left the kitchen, the memory of Edward decided to tag along. It walked right into the master bedroom. And it laid down with her on the bed as she rested her aching head on the downy pillow. 

Winry stared blankly at the ceiling, knowing that her fixation for Edward was going to pass, because, in the end, she stayed true to her resolve.

The medication was taking effect, Edward was no longer haunting her thoughts. She didn’t noticed the moment when she succumbed to a dreamless sleep. 

 

* * *

 

Winry hunched over the work table, the tip of her tongue sticking out as she soldered wires to Mrs. Pennilow’s new forearm. She opted for the safety glasses instead of wearing thick welding lenses. The soldering gun wasn’t intense enough to hurt the eyes, but straining, like she had been doing for the past few hours, had taken a toll on her sight, and on her the body. 

Winry finished soldering the red wire to the motherboard. She placed the soldering gun next to the metal limb, and rubbed her tired eyes with her gloved hand. Her eyeballs hurt, but she had to go on. 

The pain medication she took the day before worked, her migraine was gone, one less problem on her list. This however did little for her work schedule. Her agenda was already cluttered with rescheduled appointments, so adding yesterday’s cancellations on top of it all was resulting to be cumbersome. Now she had to work twice as hard: taking care of small repairs between appointments and working on upgrades while she ate. She was so damn busy that she didn’t even have time to go to the bathroom.

Winry dipped her ungloved hand into the wire bin, and took out a small cable spool. With the aid of pliers, she cut a portion of the grounding cable to the length of the forearm. The new wire (like the red wire) was going to be soldered to the motherboard and to the the nerve junction. 

“Phew!” Winry said as she exhaled.

She rocked her head from side to side. Exhaustion was catching up to her, she could feel the stress tensing her neck and shoulders.

 _I’m going to have another headache if this continues,_ Winry thought, yet she still kept working. 

Early that morning, while she worked on reorganizing her agenda, the date of Alphonse’s arrival came into view. It reminded her that she had only two weeks to to work on clearing the mess caused by rescheduling. She also needed to mentally prepare herself for a life of deceit, the kind of life she chose to live. 

Winry lowered the soldering gun. Her brow furrowed into a deep frown. Was she really going forward with this? 

“I must remain strong,” she said out loud, hoping that the affirmation would ease the increasing anxiety building up inside.

She took a deep breath and continued soldering.

 

* * *

 

The faint sound of knuckles rasping against wood barely made it to the back of Rockbell Automail. 

At first, Winry thought nothing of it, but she began paying attention when the rasping became louder. She gingerly deposited the flat screwdriver on the table, right next to Corporate Brown’s new foot. Her eyes went to the clock, the hands marked 6:03 PM.

Another knock claimed the silent space.

Winry grumbled silently, wondering if the person standing on the other side of the door couldn’t read the sign (the one in big red letters superimposed against black) that hung from a nail stating that the shop was closed, it was at eye level after all. 

A few seconds passed by before another knock reached her ears.

“Ugh—!” She harrumphed.

After a minute or so, Winry had counted at least two more knocks. Couldn’t this person take a hint?

Apparently this “mystery person” must’ve somehow read her thoughts because the knocking ceased. 

Winry kept her ears alert, waiting for another knock, but it never came. 

Another ten seconds ticked away, and nothing. 

Winry shrugged her shoulders before picking up the flat-tipped screwdriver. An image of Edward came to the front of her mind while fastening a B–67 screw to the first metatarsus. The screwdriver slipped from her hand, falling to the floor, and rolling under the work table. 

_There’s no way…_ Winry’s heart raced. “It can’t be him—” She tried to reassure herself, but her efforts were in vain.

Her heart began pounding hard against her chest. Only two days had gone by since Edward walked out the door (and out of her life) for good.

 _But what if he’s back?_ The thought made her stomach drop. _Edward wouldn’t dare to come back—_

The unmistakable clicking of keys reached the back room. 

Winry jumped in place when she heard the bolt retracting into the door. Her hand automatically searched for a wrench but it was too late. Her heart almost gave out when she saw a tall figure standing under the threshold of the room.

“Surprise—!” Alphonse Elric exclaimed with a bright smile of his face. He was holding a large bouquet of flowers in one hand and his set of keys in the other.

“A—Al!” Winry cried out as she desperately clung to the table as if her life depended on it. 

And what was supposed to be an joyful surprise turned into an unpleasant welcoming. 

Alphonse dropped what he had in hand and rushed to Winry’s side. 

“Winry—! Hey, Winry!” He called out, wrapping her weak body in his arms when he realized she was about to faint. 

Frightened eyes studied her face. “Tell me wrong,” he asked as calmly as possible while trying to keep himself from panicking. 

Winry blinked into awareness. A trembling hand touched a side of Alphonse’s face; she needed to make sure that she wasn’t hallucinating. Smooth clean-shaven skin kissed by lavender and sage; vivid olive eyes—it was Alphonse alright. 

“This can’t be happening…” She whispered as wave of dread washed over her—she was not prepared for this!

Winry noticed how Alphonse’s brows slowly came together, forming a deep frown. 

“Your chi—,” Alphonse started saying but stopped. He reminded himself that it wasn’t wise to rely solely on perception. 

Winry jolted upon hearing the word “chi”. Alphonse’s ability to sense moods was uncanny. She just couldn’t let him read into her energy, so she wiggled away from arms. 

Alphonse took her reaction as rejection, it was painted all over his face. 

_Damn it!_ She cursed under her breath, regretting acting on impulse. _If this continues—_

“I’m ok, a bit startled that’s all—um—welcome home,” she said, hoping the gesture would ease his worries, but Alphonse remained unmoved. 

Winry cursed again under her breath. She should know better, deceiving Alphonse wasn’t going to be easy. 

_What to do, what to do—!_ She desperately thought, because she wasn’t going to admit the truth. 

Her eyes went to the flower bouquet laying on the concrete floor.

“They are beautiful,” she mentioned, praying that the new diversion could steer the course of the conversation. 

She even offered him a coquettish smile as her blue eyes flitted from Alphonse to the bouquet, and back again. 

It worked; Alphonse’s expression softened considerably. He gazed at her tenderly before walking past her and picking up the bouquet from the floor.

“A flower lady entered the car at the previous train station,” he said as he sauntered back to Winry’s side. ”Spring daisies, each is as bright and as beautiful as you,” he added while handing over the bouquet.

Winry felt sick to her stomach, she didn’t deserve his affection. She felt her eyes starting to sting, so she quickly hid her face in the flowers, and pretended to smell the pompoms. Luckily, she managed to quickly regain her composure.

“They’re lovely,” she said, offering him a half-felt smile. 

”You gave me quite a scare, Al.” She added, her smile waned as she spoke. “I thought someone had broken in.” 

A drop of truth in a sea of lies. She honestly believed that it was Edward who had broken in. 

Alphonse smiled bashfully. 

“I guess I over did it a little,” he apologized as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Winry let out a few nervous chuckles.

Alphonse took the bouquet from her hands and placed it on the table, then took her hands in his, squeezing them gently before saying, ”I didn’t mean to scare you, Win. I wanted this to be a pleasant surprise.”

“You surprised me alright!” Winry admitted wholeheartedly, even when the answer carried a deeper darker meaning.

Her thoughts inevitably went back to Edward, and to the love affair.

“Winry,” Alphonse called out to her when he noticed a vacant expression covering her face. 

He laid his hand on her shoulder and she jerked away instinctively. Deep worry clouded his expression as he took his hand away. 

“Did something happen while I was gone?” He had to ask, Winry’s energy had spiked again, and it was starting to bother him. 

The question brought her back into the moment.

Winry looked away, unable to offer Alphonse a proper answer.

“Please talk to me.” 

Winry flinched, she hated for Alphonse to beg. Her eyes met with his, and confronted his hurt. 

“I had a pretty bad day today,” she simply said.

It was the honest truth. Today she had a bad day—it was a bad couple of days, actually—but Alphonse only needed to know just that. As she held his gaze she noticed that he wasn’t entirely convinced of her explanation. She bit her lower lip, debating about how to proceed. 

“Why do you ask?” She dared to ask. 

Her voice had come out neutral, which was a good thing, but she could tell that he picked up on her tension.

Alphonse kept staring at her, studying her, dissecting her with his penetrating eyes. 

Winry began to panic under his intense scrutiny.

“You don’t look too happy to see me,” Alphonse said before she had a chance to speak her mind.

Her pupils contracted to the size of pinheads. Alphonse was right, she was not happy to see him—but that was only because he came back home early! 

Her inner voice, who had been quietly listening to all the fodder she was trying to feed Alphonse during the past half hour, took the opportunity to made itself be heard. And it told Winry to come clean, to confess to the affair, to ask for forgiveness. 

Her lips began to quiver. What was she going to do?

“Please don’t think that way…” She whispered, struggling against her shaky voice. 

In an act of desperation, Winry entered Alphonse’s space. She raised to her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his lips, drowning all thought with her actions, just like she did when she kissed Edward mere days before.

The spellbinding kiss managed to dissolve Alphonse’s worries. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her deeply. 

Winry didn’t put any resistance.

”I missed you so much,” Alphonse said when he pulled back. 

Winry offered him a small smile.

“I missed you too,” she said, quickly putting her arms around Alphonse’s neck. She snuggled close to him so he couldn’t see the guilt clinging to her face.

And they held each other for a long while. 

Be it the intensity of the heartfelt moment or the exhaustion from riding long hours by train, Alphonse couldn’t tell, but he felt the urge to make a small confession. 

”I was supposed to arrive three days ago but a freakish sandstorm hit the area near the Xerxes ruins and the train tracks had to be cleared before the service became fully functional.”

Winry’s stomach dropped. If Alphonse would’ve arrived on time then she would’ve never gotten herself involved with Edward! She buried her face in his broad chest when her eyes began moisten.

”You’re here now—welcome home,” she whispered, once again struggling against her shaky voice. 

Winry wrapped her arms tightly around his chest. With eyes shut close, she silently prayed for forgiveness. 

Alphonse planted a kiss on top of her head. 

“I’m glad to be back,” he replied, but his words had come out strained despite his attempt to disguise it.

Because he had finally found the word to describe Winry’s chi: murky.

 

* * *

 

The ample bed creaked, Winry opened her eyes when she felt movement. She turned to lay on her back, and began staring at the ceiling above. The whiteness before her looked inviting. She exhaled softly, putting a tired arm across her forehead. Winry stayed like that, immersed in that muted landscape for a long while. When the ceiling bored her, she turned sideways again. Before, she had been facing the window, now she faced Alphonse. 

He moved again, shifting on bed and turning sideways just as she did a moment ago. 

Tired eyes glided over the broad plains of his bare back. Her expression softened, reminiscing about their intimacy. As always, Alphonse had been so attentive to her needs; so gentle, so loving. Their union would’ve been the picture perfect if it wasn’t for how she felt. 

Alphonse let out a soft sigh. His chest rised and fell like he didn’t have a care in the world. Lucky him.

Winry also exhaled but her breath carried nothing but guilt. 

Her mind wandered back to the culmination of their day as her eyes became lost in the rhythm of Alphonse’s breathing.

 

 

It had been his idea to eat sandwiches. He went ahead and prepared the simple meal while she finished working on the artificial foot. 

She encountered lights bouncing off the walls of the dining room when she returned upstairs. And she caught Alphonse lighting the last candle. She should’ve been overjoyed by such charming gesture, but after what she had said and done, she felt underserving.

Sweet words, the pulling of a chair and being waited on; she all but smiled as Alphonse catered. And it wasn’t fair at all that she barely touched her food after all he was doing for her, but the knot in her stomach made it impossible to eat at the moment. 

Alphonse must’ve sensed her guilt, because he brought along with him a wine bottle and two glasses when he returned from the kitchen. 

They made a toast to his return. 

And they drank. 

She paced herself—heavens forbid she screwed up like she did earlier at the shop. 

Alphonse drank for the sake of drinking, and it didn’t take long for him, who was not a habitual drinker, to become loose. 

She froze instantly when Alphonse threw himself on her lap, just like Edward had done weeks before. 

_”Win, are you still upset about what I said back at the train station?”_

At first, she thought the alcohol doing the taking for him, but she kept turning the question over in her head until she remembered their last conversation and how it had ended on a sour note. 

Her eyes widened in instant recognition, a great opportunity to correct her earlier mistake had presented itself. Alphonse was no fool, he knew something was wrong, and he was going to keep digging up for the truth until he found it unless she got to him first. All she needed to do was to take advantage of the situation, to manipulate his words, and pin the blame on him. 

What she was considering to do was downright deplorable, an act that would make her grandmother turn on her grave if she went ahead with it. 

Winry looked down at her wine glass. A profound sense of guilt made her hesitate for an instant, but she took the glass in her hand, and swigged what was left of the drink in three gulps. 

“Yes, Al,” she conceded as she put the glass down. 

She ignored the voice in the back of her mind telling her how she had sunk to a new low.

 

 

As the evening transformed into night, so did the mood in the dining room. Not only did Winry learned she was an expert manipulator, she also learned how good she was at pretend. 

A mass of conflicting emotions coursed through her mind and body when Alphonse claimed her mouth with a passionate kiss. It wasn’t that she felt aversion by the contact as much as how strange it felt. 

Alphonse had been so forward: kissing, stroking, grabbing and pulling. It was unfair to compare, but his advances reminded her of Edward. 

Alphonse had pressed on, encouraging her to engage in foreplay. He was doing everything right, but as she painfully came to realize, his touches didn’t have the same effect they used to. This, however, wasn’t reason enough to keep her from telling him to stop. 

She had inhaled sharply when Alphonse lifted her onto the dining table, and had closed her eyes the moment she felt him in her.

Winry let out a long sigh as her thoughts returned to the present. She kept her eyes trained on Alphonse, hoping that if she stared at him long enough, she would be able to restore the intense passion she once felt for him. A sad frown claimed her features when she realized it wasn’t working.

Edward Elric had been in her mind both times she let Alphonse take her. It had been Edward, not Alphonse, who brought her to climax, and it had been Edward’s name who she silently called out as she came down from the high of her orgasm.

Winry ran a hand across her husband’s bare back.

“Al…” She whispered as she gently brushed her fingers over his bare shoulder. 

“I’m sorry.” 

The tears she had been holding back all this time finally flowed free. 

 

 

Winry laid on her back again. Her redened eyes went to the same spot in the ceiling. 

“I made a choice and I must hold to it,” she reminded herself, chanting the words like a mantra, until her eyelids overcame with slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This chapter has a commentary at Live Journal.](http://le-maleficent.livejournal.com/14697.html)


	13. THIRTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alphonse makes an interesting discovery.

Winry raised her hands high and stretched until her back popped. She then rolled her shoulders and neck before letting out a sigh. The chair shrilled against the concrete floor as she pushed it away from the work desk. Winry yawned, her tired eyes settling on the last project of the day. The hand for Mrs. Colt passed the test for both movement and reaction. 

Winry picked up the jumping cables and hung them on the hook of the diagnostic machine. 

Her eyes went to the clock as she wheeled the cart towards the storage room.

_It's 4:00 PM already?_

It was a pleasant surprise to have finished work an hour before closing shop. 

Winry returned to the desk and opened her agenda to double check that the rest of the day was indeed clear. A smile adorned her face when she found the last rows empty. She sat on the chair, resting her chin in one of her hands. 

Rockbell Automail, like her personal life, had returned back to normal. She couldn't have done it alone, she had Alphonse to thank for it. With the aid of his alchemy and alkahestry, she was able to tackle the gargantuan task of tending to each appointment in a timely manner. 

An affectionate smile adorned her face, thinking how lucky she was to have him in her life. 

It took them two months to reach the point where they were close again, and that was all she ever wanted, but reaching this point proved to be quite difficult. The road to recovery hadn't been an easy one.

Winry spent the first couple of days adjusting to Alphonse’s company. Intense guilt kept her from even looking at him in the eye, and while Alphonse refrained himself from speaking openly about this, she knew her actions were putting a wedge between them. She was well aware that their marriage was suffering. 

Home life became a series of automated events. Daytime was bearable since they each had to work. Alphonse locked himself inside the study room with the excuse of working on his manuscript while Winry hid behind her creations downstairs in the workshop. The nights proved to be difficult. Both ate in relative silence, only speaking about menial things, like the weather, but mainly they stuck to talking about work. The intimacy they shared on the day of Alphonse’s return seemed like a distant dream, he didn't make an effort to approach her afterward. 

In the two months since the affair, Winry questioned herself if she ever had a chance to escape from the burdening passion she had felt for Edward. What if she, in a brief moment of clarity could've turned things around and save herself from the current outcome? Winry knew it was pointless to question her fate, because she already knew the answer, for it had been written in stone. The reasonable course of action was to follow her heart, to choose Edward over Alphonse, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. 

“Until death do us part.” 

And she intended to keep that promise no matter the cost or the sacrifice. She was always going to stay by Alphonse’s side.  


 

 

Winry had to work hard to regain what was lost. She started small, looking at the things that made Alphonse special. Looking at photo albums helped immensely since the stories captured in film reaffirmed her belief that they belonged together.

Taking a genuine interest in Alphonse's work was also helpful. Winry took the initiative to join him on his morning meditations. Alphonse taught her many things, like how to channel her energy so she wouldn't feel exhausted at the end of the day, something that had increased in the past few days. 

Through a state of mindfulness, Winry began to bond with Alphonse, and he, with her. She started cooking his favorite dishes; he started being attentive, loving and adoring. 

They began dating like in their youth. Winry followed up on her mental note and took Alphonse to the Auregan café where she smiled tenderly as she watched him wolf down one sweet after another. 

They began holding hands as they walked the streets of their cozy little town, enjoying each other’s company.

It only took the spark of a passionate kiss to set their love ablaze. For days, they frolicked under the covers like newlyweds. Alphonse’s attentions and his gentleness soon replaced urgency and need. 

A huge burden was lifted from Winry's soul the moment Edward stopped haunting her waking thoughts. She was well aware that the brand of her sin will forever mark her, but she was more than willing to forgive herself and move on. By no means, she pretended to cast away what had happened. She would always treasure the night of ardent passion shared with Edward, he, who will always have a special place in her heart.

The clanking of the doorbell snapped Winry out of deep thought. Her heart rejoiced knowing it was Alphonse who just got back from running errands in town.

He entered the shop through the side entrance and not through the kitchen as she was expecting. Winry smiled when their eyes met. 

Alphonse’s knack for balancing multiple objects in his arms never ceased to amaze her. It was a typical scene in the Rockbell-Elric household, one that wouldn't raise eyebrows if it wasn't for how Alphonse was glaring at her as he set one of the items, a small cardboard box, in front of her.

“This came in from Rush Valley,” Alphonse said in a clipped tone before heading upstairs with the rest of the articles—groceries from the market. 

It hadn't been Alphonse’s surly expression but the muted fury in his eyes what disconcerted Winry. Her mind automatically sprung into action and began running through a checklist of things that could've caused her husband to be so ticked off. Out of the many things she came up with there was one that kept rising to the top of the list like froth rises to the top of a beer: Edward Elric. 

Winry’s mouth instantly dried. She tried to swallow the fear down but her throat and chest cinched tight. Thinking the worst, she clenched her fists so hard her knuckles were turning white. What did she expect? She had kept too many things from Alphonse including that Edward had been in town. She deluded herself into thinking that somehow everything was going to be fine and now the consequences of her poor choices were coming back to haunt her.

 _Please, please don't let this be real…_ Winry resorted to begging to the God she had long forgotten as she succumbed to her paranoia.

The wooden stairs creaked under Alphonse’s weight almost sending Winry into a frenzy. She held her breath in suspense when it looked like Alphonse was heading her way, but let it all out in one long puff when he went down the hallway. 

His stride was heavy and his shoulders were tense, Alphonse reminded her of a toy wound up too tight.

Winry’s heart almost jumped into her mouth when she heard him entering the surgery room. 

_Get a grip Rockbell!_ She slapped the sides of her face hard. They shared the room so there was no need to overreact, still—

Paranoia had nicely made itself home, and it didn't waste time propelling Winry into action. 

When she entered the surgery room, her eyes widened in alarm. 

Alphonse was rummaging through the medicine cabinets. 

He glanced over his shoulder when he felt her presence inside the room. Ignoring her apprehension, he continued searching through the cabinets. 

“Ah—here it is!” Alphonse exclaimed, making Winry gasp in surprise when he took something from the shelves. Whatever it was, he was purposely hiding it from her sight. 

Alphonse didn't stop there. He picked up his alkahestry bag, glaring again as he exited the room. His footsteps told Winry he had returned to the workroom. She followed him there.  


 

 

Her pupils constricted and her face paled when she recognized the small glass bottle sitting on the table next to the work bench.

Alphonse, who was checking the contents in his alkahestry bag, looked up when caught Winry staring at the bottle with Pitt’s tincture: the one he had made for Edward.

“How did it go?” Alphonse asked in a tone of voice so serene that clashed with the fury burning in his olive eyes. 

Winry found herself too stunned to react. 

“I asked you a question, Winry.” He insisted, this time around, his tone of voice matched his overall demeanor.

Winry opened her mouth to say something but no answer came out of her.

“Did Edward thanked you?” Alphonse chided; Winry blanched. 

Bless his innocence, Winry thought, because Alphonse didn't know how unsettling his comment had been. 

“Pitt just told me that he had been here,” he snapped. 

Alphonse was trying to repress his shaking and made Winry be more afraid of what was coming.

“Al, I—” She started saying but Alphonse cut her off.

“When were you going to tell me!” His roaring voice reverberated throughout the room, making Winry flinch.

“I did, I did tell you—the night you came back,” she said in a small pathetic voice. 

She was looking for ways to salvage the sinking ship their marriage was turning into.

Alphonse shook his head in sheer frustration. 

“Lies!” He hissed.

“I _did_ tell you Al—!” Winry insisted her eyes were beginning to sting, but Alphonse was not moved at all by her desperation. 

“Stop it, Winry—” He flashed her a petrifying glare.

Winry knew she was at the end of her rope. 

_“You were drunk!”_ She screamed, her face red and contorted.

The accusation almost brought the bitter argument to a screeching halt. 

“You know how you get when you're drunk,” Winry added, huffing and panting, and looking guilty. “Keeping something like that from you—” 

Winry stopped talking, she shook her head instead, hating herself a bit more for what she was going to say. 

“It's asinine!” 

Her voice had wavered, but it wasn't only her voice that was affected, Winry could feel her body trembling. The state of complete agitation was making her giddy, at any given moment, she succumb to a fainting spell. She needed a distraction, fast. Her eyes went to the steel ingots sitting in the corner near the work desk. 

Ignoring Alphonse’s presence in the room, she rushed over to where the ingots were and picked one up. She didn't dare take a look at her husband as she walked right past him to reach the other side of the room where a steel shelve was bolted to the floor. The large unit was placed next to a small smelter that she uses to melt the metals needed for creating custom automail parts.

Alphonse followed Winry with his eyes. His core still shook with anger, his fists trembled in unison with the ugly sentiment. His wife was acting strange and he hated it because it filled his head with all sorts of disquieting thoughts. 

“Murky…” Alphonse said in a low yet ominous tone of voice when Winry walked by.

His words made her falter but she recovered. She picked up the pace and placed two more ingots on the shelve. Winry was sure her actions were aggravating the situation yet she still pushed forward.

“Your chi is as murky as the day I came back.”

Winry stopped what she was doing. Alphonse’s comment had sounded affected. Her brow furrowed with guilt; she was a bad wife and a terrible human being. Fear once again took control of her senses, making her nauseous when it joined forces with her anxiety. She inhaled deep and let the air out of her lungs slowly in hopes that the wave of nausea threatening to come up would ease down. 

When the queasiness faded, Winry turned around to face Alphonse. Her blue eyes widened in shock as she had never seen such a dark expression clouding her husband’s pleasant features.

Winry couldn't stand staying in the work room; it was too much to take at once. She fled, with an ingot in each hand, into the storage room.

Alphonse stormed his way there.

“What happened between the two of you?” 

When they were newlyweds, Winry wondered how Alphonse would respond to jealousy. She always assumed that he didn't have it in him to fall prey of such ugly sentiment. The scornful look ruining his otherwise gentle expression wiped clean her preconceptions.

Winry’s heartbeat was pounding hard in her ears; vertigo blurred everything in her line of sight for a fraction of a second. The sensation was strong, she almost dropped the ingots to the floor, but she came back to, and when she did, a feeling of entrapment replaced vertigo. It was a suffocating sensation, one that proved overpowering in her altered state. Winry fled back to the work room, escaping Alphonse and his scrutiny for a second time. She didn't dare to look over her shoulder when she heard Alphonse entering the space.

“Winry—”

“Nothing happened,” she cut him off, “Edward had a problem with the leg. I fixed it. _He_ left!”

The lack of an answer told Winry that Alphonse didn't believe one single word she had said.

Stupid girl, you think you're so clever—you're not fooling anyone. Hearing her grandmother’s foreboding words made her inhale sharply.

The lingering silence brought tears to Winry’s eyes, but she fought them back and busied herself with stacking the ingots.

“Please don't do this…” 

The palpable hurt in Alphonse's voice pierced through her aching heart.

Winry swallowed the lump stuck in her throat before turning around to face Alphonse. Her heart was beating wildly against her ribcage, like a frenzied animal. Her stomach churned, and the room turned like a spinning top. She felt her body weigh more than the heaviest piece of automail equipment in the shop. 

Seconds later, darkness set in.  


 

* * *

 

_“Winry—Winry!”_

Winry blinked into awareness. For a moment there she didn't recognize where she was or who was shaking her, but as she looked around, everything sorted back into order.

Alphonse was holding her in his arms, squeezing her tight the moment when her eyes met with his.

“What happened?” She croaked as she moved to a sitting position.

“You fainted,” Alphonse replied, an expression of pure relief washed over him.

It took her a couple of seconds to process what he said. 

So she had fainted…Winry realized that the pressure from arguing took a toll on her. 

Winry tried to stand up, and as she did, a strong wave of nausea hit her. She stumbled to the bathroom, doubling over the toilet when she reached it. She was spitting yellow bile when Alphonse stepped under the threshold.

“You don't look well.” 

“I'll be fine,” Winry replied before wiping her mouth and nose with paper, remembering then that she forgot to have something to eat.

She went to the sink to wash her mouth.

“I forgot to have something to eat. I probably fainted because of low blood sugar,” she reassured Alphonse as she turned off the tap.

He didn't comment at first, but he did offer Winry a tight smile in response.

“Let me help you upstairs.” He extended his hand to his wife and escorted her back to the kitchen.  


 

 

“Here you go.” Alphonse placed a small plate with grapes and cheese in front of Winry.

She pushed the plate away, finding the smell of cheddar offensive. 

Alphonse gave her a questioning look before taking the plate back to the kitchen. He brought back with him a plate filled with plain soda crackers and apple slices.

“These should be easy on your stomach.”

Winry’s nose crinkled as she picked up a cracker. After a long hard look, she popped in into her mouth. She didn't find the texture nor the taste repulsive so she moved to the apple slices. In no time, she devoured everything on the plate.

“Thanks,” she said, holding the last piece of apple in one hand.

“You're welcome.” His clipped tone made Winry look away.

The crunch of the fresh apple filled the otherwise quiet space. After Winry finished the apple, they sat in silence for a long while.

“Can I trust you, Winry?” Alphonse asked, breaking the unnerving silence engulfing them by brushing on what they were arguing back at the automail shop.

Winry looked at him and at his cool and collected expression. It took Alphonse years to master the art of deception but she had been with him long enough to know that underneath that mask of indifference clung resignation. He would never admit to this, though, stubbornness and pride were an Elric trait, but Winry was almost positive that Alphonse knew he had been betrayed. 

For the first time since the affair, Winry contemplated telling him the truth. She stared at him, at those sunshine eyes which had lost their light. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. What good admitting to the truth would do? It wasn't as if she was going to continue cheating on Alphonse. What happened between her and Edward had been a terrible mistake, but there wasn't any reason to continue to be punished for their sin.

Winry’s expression softened as she repeated Alphonse’s question in her mind. 

“You can trust me, Al,” she said behind a genuine smile for she was telling the truth. “I love you,” she added as she cupped a side of his face. 

It took a while for Alphonse to react, most likely he was gauging the validity of her claim against the vibration of her chi.

After a small pause, he took her hand in his, and kissed it before saying, “Me too.”

The relief Winry felt was disrupted by nausea. She ran towards the bathroom, depositing what she just ate inside the toilet bowl.

Once gain Alphonse stood under the threshold with worry painted on his face.

“You're not okay, Winry. I'm going to take you to the hospital right away.”

Winry wiped her mouth with paper before saying, “Maybe's a stomach bug. No big deal.”

Alphonse crossed his arms over his chest. “I'm still taking you to the hospital.”

“Then take me tomorrow. I'm too exhausted to go right now.”

“Very well…” Alphonse said in displeasure, to which Winry answered with a nervous chuckle.

She rinsed her mouth and washed her face for a second time in a row then left the bathroom.

"I'm turning in early—love you," Winry mentioned before heading upstairs.

Alphonse remained silent. His mind was occupied with the dark feelings floating around in his head yet again. 

Winry offered him a tight smile then went upstairs, disappearing from Alphonse's sight.  


 

* * *

 

Alphonse went back to the automail shop and tidy up the place for his wife, tossing Edward’s medicine into the trash can without any hesitation. When he finished, he sat on a chair. With forearms resting on his thighs, he stared into the blank space in front of him. It had been years since doubt and uncertainty infected his soul. He remembered how Barry the Chopper managed to turn him against the people he loved. He didn't pay attention to reason and unfairly passed judgment on to Edward and Winry. It was a mistake he swore to never repeat.

 _My trust in my wife and in my brother is absolute,_ Alphonse then thought to himself, repeating the statement like it was a Xinguese mantra.

He was going to continue chanting the phrase in the stillness of the shop until his heart would accept his words as truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This chapter has a commentary at Live Journal.](http://le-maleficent.livejournal.com/15641.html)


	14. FOURTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winry goes to the doctor only to receive an unexpected diagnosis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi dear readers! Sorry for the late update, my life is just getting complicated. At least I have a steady source of income!
> 
> I will be slowly working on the next chapter but I can't guarantee when I'll be able to upload it because I have a shit-on of work lined up for the summer, and I'm also going to be illustrating one of the FMA Big Bang 2016 stories.
> 
>  
> 
> For now here's some heartbreak for you to feast on.
> 
> —MotM

Dr. Nash’s office was one of three medicine practices in Resembool. Unlike the other two, Dr. Nash Family Medicine had been a permanent fixture in town. Three generations of doctors had treated the townspeople and young Luca was the next in line. Word has it that Luca and his wife Janet were caring individuals always eager to help, sometimes even putting the welfare of others before their own. This type of commitment reminded Winry of her parents, and it was for this reason that she decided to remain loyal to the clinic.

Alphonse had insisted in taking her to the hospital, but Winry knew what she had didn’t merit a hospital visit. It only took a reassuring smile to ease his worries, and while her tactic didn’t fully convince him, it was enough to make him back down and comply with her wishes.

Alphonse dropped her off at the family clinic at 9 o’clock sharp. He would’ve done it sooner but she got sick again earlier that morning. An argument about Alphonse cancelling his appointments for the day also took a good chunk of their time. Winry had to remind him again that what she had was harmless and his clients shouldn’t suffer because of this.

The promise of macaroons and a thorough discussion of the doctor’s findings convinced Alphonse to let her be. Now she waited inside the rustic office for her name to be called.

 

 

Winry didn’t hear the receptionist calling her name. She had been hugging the toilet in the restroom, graciously depositing the contents of her light breakfast inside the ceramic bowl. Another patient took her turn leaving her waiting a lifetime in the small waiting room. Winry exhausted the limited selection of magazines in less than ten minutes. She ventured to look around the room to see if she could strike a friendly conversation with someone but everyone was minding their own business. Having nothing else to occupy her mind with, Winry’s immediate thoughts went to Alphonse.

In the safety of the waiting room, she allowed herself to think about how he would’ve reacted if she had confessed to having slept with Edward. Would’ve he taken his humiliation out on her? Winry wry smile twisted her lips. Alphonse was a gentleman, he would never dare lay a hand on her.

_He would take things with dignity…_ She lowered her eyes, shading her sorrow. Alphonse chose to stand down when he should’ve been up in arms. It looked like he wasn’t going to pick up a sledgehammer and swing it against the foundation of their marriage.

“Mrs. Rockbell, the doctor is ready to see you.” The nurse’s smile welcomed her back to the moment.

The nurse was a new addition to the clinic; it looked like Dr. Nash was going to adopt the healthcare protocols used in Central.

The nurse’s voice was like a mother’s caress, and she was gentle too, offering Winry reassuring words while she took her vitals. She finished annotating the results in the medical record then escorted Winry to a private room. She sat on the examination bed, offering the kind nurse a smile before she left the room.

A quick once-over was all it took for Winry to appreciate the changes in Nash’s Family Medicine.

The private room used to be part of a bigger room. This type of compartmentalization was also part of the design aesthetics found in a modern practices. Winry smiled to herself, recognizing that her small town was finally catching up with the times.

The recoiling springs in the the doorknob announced the doctor’s presence.

“Good morning, Mrs. Rockbell,” Luca greeted, his face buried in her medical file. “Is it Rockbell or Elric?” He asked as his chestnut eyes met with azure.

“Rockbell is fine,” Winry replied demurely.

Luca offered a bashful grin in return. “Got it, Mrs. Rockbell.”

The young doctor cleared in throat, and concentrated his attention on the medical file. He read in silence the history contained between the thick manila stock, nodding every so often as if he was having a conversation with himself. After a minute or so, he closed the folder placing it on a table across the examination bed.

“Mrs. Rockbell, you have been feeling ill since yesterday evening?”

Winry nodded in agreement. “Yes, doctor, I fainted…” Her voice died down recalling the reason why she had collapsed in the first place. “I initially thought I fainted because of low blood sugar, you see, I kind of forgot to eat during the day, but then vomiting hit me like a train.” Her face crinkled in disgust remembering the foul smell of bile. “It happened again this morning, then again in your office restroom.” Winry paused, sensing alarming thought taking shape in the back of her mind. “I think I might’ve contracted the flu?” She added, but she wasn’t so sure anymore.

Luca listened to all Winry had to say, not once interrupting her to ask for more details.

“Can you lay on your back for me?” He simply said as he approached the examination bed. “I’m going to feel your stomach and abdomen for any abnormal changes.”

Winry did as told. As she laid on the bed, the paper underneath crinkled and cracked, vociferating that Luca was going to perform more than a simple check up. The young doctor started applying pressure to the sides of her stomach, asking Winry if she felt any sharp pain, to which she replied with a shake of her head. When Luca’s hands traveled to her lower abdomen, Winry could help but to inhale sharply. She felt tightness around that area when the doctor pressed gently on it. Her heart raced as the thought she was holding back came rushing forward like a herald about to deliver a crucial message.

“Mrs. Rockbell, when was your last period?” Luca asked, cementing her worries.

Winry didn’t answer him right away, she was caught in a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Questions and recriminations arise within her mind, and she berated herself for not noticing the changes in her body. But how could she? How could she have noticed when all her energy went to cleaning up the mess left behind by her mistakes?

“Two months ago…” Winry admitted as tears lined her eyelids.

Luca didn’t know what to make of her patient’s reaction. He opened the medical folder and flipped through the fastened pages making sure that he, in fact, had read everything correctly—that Mrs. Rockbell and her husband had been trying to conceive for years without any success. He went over his father’s notes one more time before raising his eyes to Winry.

“Mrs. Rockbell,” he called out to her, whose face was lost in a sorrowful expression, “there are signs of tenderness around your lower abdominal region, and while is too early to check for fundal height, I do believe that you’re with child.”

Luca extended a hand to her but she didn’t take it. He retracted his hand fearing to look like an idiot with his hand suspended in midair, instead, he buried it inside the pocket of his pants, clearing his throat before getting into details.

“I know you and your husband were having a hard time trying to conceive, so I get your resistance to the news. I’ll tell you what, come in tomorrow, I’ll have a rabbit secured for a pregnancy testing. There’s an added charge to the procedure—with the purchase of the rabbit and the fact that it has to be sacrificed for the sake of the test—yes, it’ll cost a bit more than a usual visit but we’ll have conclusive results regarding the possible pregnancy.”

Winry who barely could make out the doctor’s words from the loud thumping in her ears perked up when he mentioned that a rabbit could confirm her pregnancy.

“There’s no need for that, Luca,” she said, trying to sound upbeat even though she was dying on the inside.

And with that, Winry slid off the bed, extending a shaky hand to the worried doctor. She left the clinic without so much as a backward glance.

 

* * *

 

 

The macaroons were left behind at the bakery, the sweet confections were the least of her worries.

Winry traipsed through the streets of her hometown with no clear intention of returning home right away. Not that it mattered, for she was much too preoccupied with taking stock of everything that has happened so far. While she treaded through the streets, she went over how many days had passed since her last period, coming to the painful conclusion that she was 63 days late. Winry’s eyes watered when she thought about Edward and Alphonse. Only three days separated her sexual encounter with both of them! She clenched her teeth and picked up pace, hoping to put some distance between herself and the recriminating voices that told her she would never know who was her baby’s father.

Winry didn’t notice when she traded concrete buildings for green hills, and she certainly didn’t notice how her feet guided her to the graveyard.

Tombstones decorated the far end of the farmlands. Winry was the only living thing around those parts—aside from the surrounding vegetation and the occasional crow crossing the blue sky. It was rare for people to visit the graveyard during work hours—lucky her! She had the entire place for herself. Even if there had been another soul visiting the graveyard, Winry wouldn’t have minded because the urgency to visit the Rockbell lot was far more important than being seen there.

The rusty hinges cried (maybe it was her who cried) as she pushed the iron gate open. Winry hurried to the family’s lot, quickly dropping to her knees when she was in front of the headstones. Her mother’s lied to her right, her father’s in front of her. Winry brushed a hand against the cold stone surface. Her eyes watered when she realized that a thin layer of patina had accumulated on the inscription. She stared at her grandmother’s headstone, it looked pristine when compared to her parent’s, but that was to be expected, only a couple of years had passed by since Pinako left this world.

Winry rested on her haunches. She sucked in a breath and released it in a long sigh.

“Hey guys, how have you been?” She said, pausing after the initial greeting. She liked to think that her loved ones returned the greeting.

“I guess I wanted to come here,” she continued. “Earlier today I went to see Dr. Nash—not Dr. Nash senior but his son, his father is retired now.” A smile appeared on her lips, thinking about the mousy-looking young man. “I didn’t want to go to the clinic at first because I saw no reason for it, but you know Al…” She paused, thinking about how he was going to take the news of her pregnancy. Would tears of joy adorn his kind eyes? She shook her head. _One step at a time,_ she reminded herself. Winry wet her lips before continuing.

“I just found out that I’m pregnant.” Closing her eyes, she put her hands on her abdomen. “After all these years—” She gulped hard before adding, “isn’t it amazing?” Her heart was pounding loudly against her chest; hot tears threatened to spill over her cheeks. What could’ve been a beautiful moment was utterly ruined by her poor choices.

Imagined frowns made her gasp. Granny’s was the most severe since she was the one amongst the three who was there for her, and in a way, for the Elric brothers (especially for Alphonse) until her dying breath.

She hid her face in shame and hiccuped a sob. “I’m so sorry!”

In the midst of her sorrow, Winry wished the magic of a rabbit would extend to determining paternity, because if it did, she would gladly slaughter one in order to gain some peace of mind. Winry gritted her teeth, instantly regretting what she conjured up, but—

_What am I going to do now?_ The thought did little to ease her pain.

 

* * *

 

Alphonse tossed a bunch of letters on the desk then sank down on the chair, letting out a long sigh. His day had been long, but it felt even longer thanks to Winry.

It all started when he mentioned his intention of taking her to the hospital. What begun as a simple conversation quickly escalated into a heated argument, one that he put stop to when he sensed that they were going to cross the lines. Instead of battling Winry’s logic, he proposed a truce; a tender kiss to the forehead served as the peace treaty. The promise of gooey macaroons didn’t hurt either.

Alphonse picked up the stack of letters and began sorting them by type, all except for one were bills. His stiff shoulders relaxed and his expression softened as he studied with affectionate familiarity the golden embossing imprinted on the letter in hand. It took longer than expected but Dr. Huang had finally written back.

Ever since he first set foot in Xing, he had the blessing of meeting extraordinary people, among them, was Doctor Bao Huang, the appointed healer to Emperor Yao’s court. Dr. Huang was an alkehestry prodigy who immediately took a liking to him, not because he was the youngest son of the Golden Sage (a secret that only a select few were privy to), but for his superior alchemy skills. Over the years, Dr. Huang became both his mentor and friend and if it wasn’t because he was a married man, he would’ve stayed indefinitely in Xing, learning from this wise man how to bring together alchemy and alkahestry in harmony.

Three months ago, a courier sent from the Royal Palace handed him a seamless cedar cube with the seal of the Xinguese Royal Court beautifully carved onto its face. Only Ling would go so far to get his attention with such eccentricities. A quick transmutation cracked the cube open like an egg. Inside a letter penned in Ling’s chicken scratch awaited to be read.

Nowadays his mentor and friend spend his retirement traveling out and about spreading his knowledge of alkahestry as if it was gospel to every nook of the Eastern lands. No matter in what part of Xing Dr. Huang was at the moment, he always made time to write. One of his previous correspondence caught Alphonse’s interest. Dr. Huang confided of having found a way to measure a person’s chi in assays. With an alkahestry altered alchemic array, he could accurately identify the primordial source of any illness or condition by opening up the DNA sequence of drawn blood. Ling’s notification couldn’t have come at a better time. Alphonse was sure Dr. Huang’s discovery could help him dispel a worry he’d kept secret for years. He didn’t think of it twice, the day after reading Ling’s letter, he went to the train station and purchased a ticket to Xing via Ishval. That had been three months ago.

Alphonse held his mentor’s letter in both hands unable to find the courage open it. Dr. Huang offered him a sympathetic smile when he’d asked if the method could help determine infertility. Alphonse rolled his eyes, remembering how his mentor took sadistic pleasure by teasing him for asking a rookie question. Then he chuckled to himself, wondering why he was fated to have unconventional role models.

Laughter did wonders for his nerves, Alphonse no longer felt threatened by the contents of the unopened letter. He picked up the letter opener and—

Den’s excited barking cut through the thick of the moment; Alphonse lowered his hand.

“Winry’s back,” he mumbled as if he were a kid caught making mischief.

Alphonse stared at the letter for a brief moment before putting it back with the others. He started for the door, giving the letter a once-over as he flipped the light switch off.

 

 

Winry was placing her shoes in the rack next to the door when Alphonse entered the narrow space. Her heart jumped to her throat when their gazes met. She cursed under breath, all efforts to appear calm and collected in front of her husband had just gone up in flames.

“How did it go?”

No greetings, hardly any warmth in his tone of voice; Winry didn’t know why Alphonse’s reaction surprised her the way it did. She hid the surge of hurt with a waning smile.

“I went to the graveyard after the appointment.”

Instant worry cracked Alphonse’s icy expression. Winry only visited the graveyard when something important happens, just like he did when he needed his parents. He approached Winry and planted his hands on her shoulders. Winry’s chi flickered like a flame threatened by a sudden gust of wind.

“What happened?” He asked, struggling to understand this reaction.

Relief washed over Winry; Alphonse had just been putting up front. And while the pleasant discovery alleviated some of her guilt, it didn’t erase the fact that things between them might take a turn for the worse. Winry offered him a contrite smile, silently apologizing for what she was about to say.

“I’m pregnant.”

The news ripped through Alphonse’s chest as if it were a bullet.

“You’re serious…” He mumbled, letting out the breath he had been holding.

Winry recoiled, his response wasn’t what she’d been expecting. Her eyes began to sting but fear kept the tears back. That didn’t deter Alphonse from staring at her expectantly, so she reaffirmed her position with a meek nod of the head.

Alphonse ran a hand down his face. He felt giddy, nauseous even; nothing could’ve prepared him for this moment. He studied her chi again. The energy felt heavy and incriminating. His mouth twisted into shock—or was it disappointment? He couldn’t tell. Alphonse searched Winry’s face, trying to look in her petrified expression for the answer that would calm the unease in his heart. But Winry couldn’t give him the reassurance he so desperately needed.

“I’m going to be a dad…” He conceded when Winry looked away. And he smiled once their gazes met even though he had trouble sustaining the cheerful expression.

Winry’s heart ached terribly. She felt the urge to put an end to all the deceit and come clean, but the guilt kept her jaw clenched tight. Her eyelids lined up with fat tears.

“Yes—” She answered before letting the tears fall.

Alphonse systematically held Winry in his arms and hugged her. He crowned her head with a kiss, then said, “I love you.”

Winry choked back a sob. Why was Alphonse consoling her when he should be grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking the truth out of her? She wrapped her arms around Alphonse’s broad back and held onto him tight, fearing that if she let go, she would shatter like a porcelain doll.

 

* * *

 

Alphonse lugged Dr. Huang’s letter to the chest he kept for his most valued artifacts. He stopped in front of the box, the points of his penny loafers touching the oak wood. He stared at the letter, the fine handwriting on its face now looked menacing and foreboding. His eyes went to the letter opener sitting on the desk knowing that it could put an end to the insidious feelings poisoning his heart. But he remained inert, like the marble statues he’d become accustomed to seeing all around Central.

A deep scowl clung to his pleasant features like an ugly curtain. The letter undoubtedly contained knowledge, but wasn’t knowledge sometimes likened to sorrow? Alphonse’s lips tightened with indecision.

One simple transmutation unlocked the chest. Alphonse knelt on one knee and buried the letter deep in the box where Xinguese scrolls would forever keep it company.

Alphonse sealed the chest with alchemy and made sure not to forget to turn off the lights before exiting the study room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This chapter has a commentary at Live Journal.](http://le-maleficent.livejournal.com/17402.html)


	15. FIFTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One fateful night, Alphonse stumbles upon the letter from his mentor that he refused to open the years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOODNESS! How long has it been?
> 
> Yes, I'm alive. I've been quite busy these past few months: FMA Big Bang 2016, work, family, the in laws, and more work! Anyway, are you ready for more pain?

Winry’s ivory skin simmered under the relentless sun. She still had one more bedsheet to hang before seeking shelter inside the house.

A refreshing gust of wind moved across the hills turned golden by the hot season. Winry sighed relief as she picked the last sheet from the wicker basket. Alphonse had offered to dry the fabrics with alchemy, but she refused, then went on explaining how sun-kissed materials were far better for the skin than anything touched by alchemy; he wholeheartedly agreed.

The wind picked up speed, some of the bedsheets barely clung to the clothes line. Winry picked up the small basket with clothespins and secured the rebellious fabrics in place. She thought she heard someone calling for her as she secured the rest of the bedsheets. The large fabrics blocked her view so she walked to the end of the row and looked around.

“Mom!”

Cerulean eyes followed the voice along the narrow dirt road that led to the main road. A loving smile blossomed on her face when a tuft of golden hair came into view.

The boy took a hitchhike with the wind and reached the top of the hill in no time.

“Van!” Winry shouted, her arms akimbo. “Don’t run like that! You’re going to fall!”

“But Jake’s dad just got home!” The boy whined as he slowed down to trotting.

“And your dad walked in a little while ago,” Winry replied, already knowing what her son was trying to ask.

Van grinned wide before making a mad dash for the door.

“Van!” Winry grumbled as her son ran past her.

“I love you!” He shouted, golden eyes smiling unapologetically as he reached for the doorknob.

Winry released a hissing rush of air. “Yeah-yeah…” She mumbled as she turned away to retrieve the baskets.

 

"C’mon, dad! You promised!”

Van’s whining bumped into Winry when she was about to enter the living room.

“You said that you would teach me alchemy this summer if I behaved at school, and I did!”

Alphonse, who had his nose stuck in an alchemy book, laid in on his lap, and said, “Miss Jonsey told me you and Clayton were still butting heads.”

Van’s perky nose crinkled.

Winry knew that Miss Jonsey was not only a close family friend of the Dillon’s but also prone to favoritism. She was about to intrude in the conversation when noticed amusement tugging at the corners of Alphonse’s mouth.

“What is the basic rule you need to know in order to perform alchemy?”

Van perked up; a smirk spread wide across his face. “That’s easy: Equivalent Exchange.”

Alphonse laughed heartily. “Yes, that is true, but what I meant to say is ’what is it you need to know before _I_ teach you the basics of alchemy?’”

The boy blinked rapidly in surprise.

Winry could see that he was putting great effort into finding the right answer. She shook her head when she caught Alphonse grinning mischievously. Van was an Elric and thus destined to be a powerful alchemist; her husband was just delaying the inevitable.

“Do you give up?” Alphonse asked, making Van panic. “Patience.” He added before the boy had a chance to answer.

Van’s face fell. “What does patience has to do with alchemy?”

Alphonse looked at Winry who shot him a warning glare before returning his attention to Van.

“Alchemy is a science that combines chemistry, biology and physics, and all of its natural laws. Patience is needed in order to devise arrays and formulas that actually work…” Alphonse’s eyes turned distant for a second. “Having patience helps the alchemist avoid committing catastrophic mistakes…like rebounds…among other things—”

Winry’s eyebrows knitted together in worry when Alphonse’s face went blank.

“Okay, that’s enough alchemy talk for one day,” she said as she hurried to her husband’s side.

Winry placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. A loving smile and a gentle squeeze always brought him back to the present.

“Van, honey, can you go to the kitchen and warm some milk?” She said after making sure that Alphonse had in fact overcome the dissociative episode.

The boy curled his lips in discontent but a hard look from his mother set him straight. He got off the sofa and trudged to the kitchen.

Winry returned her attention to Alphonse. “Hey, there,” she said as she cupped a side of his face. “How are you feeling?”

Alphonse’s chagrined expression met hers. “I’m okay now.”

“Good.” Winry smiled tenderly then helped him get up from the lazy chair. “Now let’s go grab some cookies and milk.”

 

 

“I don’t know why people like this stuff,” Van said, glaring at the glass filled with milk, his nose wrinkling like wet paper.

“Milk is good for you.” Alphonse retorted but his litany didn’t pack the same punch it did in past years. He raised a questioning eyebrow. “You’re starting to remind me of your uncle Edward.”

Winry’s back straightened like a rod upon hearing the teasing remark. She took a large sip of milk so she could hide her grimace behind the glass.

“I don’t!” Van pouted, picking up his glass and chugging the white liquid in three large gulps. He almost gagged in the process.

Winry giggled. Her son always ends up disarming her deepest fears, it had been that way ever since he came into this world.

But things were far away from perfection at the beginning.

Pregnancy is a defining moment for all women. Seeing, especially feeling the body changing with each passing day is equal parts fascinating and terrifying. To Winry, it was much more than that.

The crucible started right after Alphonse slid away from her trembling hold; his smile couldn’t mask his distress. As the days went by, an unnerving silence settled in. Winry hated the silent treatment, and in spite of her attempts to pick a fight with Alphonse, he never retaliated or confronted her. There had been no doubt in her mind that he was maintaining an illusion of reasonable doubt for the sake of her health and of the baby’s.

Despite it all, his flawless attentiveness to her growing needs brought her down to her knees more than morning sickness ever did.

In order to escape the sweet torture, she immersed herself in work until the point of exhaustion. Luckily the family doctor was okay with this as long as she didn’t lift heavy objects.

It didn’t take long for the surge in hormones and the physical demands of her line of work to warp the senses.

Even if she tried, she still can’t remember the exact moment in time when she convinced herself that the baby was legitimately Alphonse’s. The declaration was as absurd as spontaneous generation given the fact that either Elric could be the father of her unborn child. But what else could she do but believe? All she wanted at the moment in time was to commit to what Alphonse had started the moment he got down on one knee at Atelier Garfiel’s.

Anxiety waded its way through the trimesters, inevitably running aground the beach of her guilty existence.

She didn’t notice when Alphonse traded despondency with joyful excitement nor did she realize that sunshine had returned to his eyes. She was much preoccupied with the baby.

 _Is it a boy or a girl? Will it arrive on time? Is it healthy?_ were the usual concerns.

 _Is it Edward’s?_ came to mind often, especially when anxiety peaked.

Hearty laughter alleviated her torment when Van’s tiny form squiggled in her arms for the first time. Her perfect little boy had inherited the traits of the legendary people of Xerxes yet he didn’t look anything like Alphonse or Edward. Van Elric-Rockbell was a carbon-copy of her late father, Urey—

The screeching of a chair as the legs scraped against the tiled floor returned Winry to the present.

“I’m done! Can I go now?” Van stressed, anxiously awaiting to put some distance between himself and the pitcher of milk dominating the scene.

Winry held Van’s gaze; his face almost split in two as a toothy smile made its way across.

“Yes, you may go,” Winry replied. She smiled too when she remembered that her grandmother Pinako used to grin like that. It’s unfortunate that she didn’t get to meet her great grandson, she would’ve loved him dearly, just as she’d loved her.

 

* * *

 

Alphonse flipped the light and sauntered into the study room. His eyes stumbled upon the picture frame sitting on the narrow bookshelf, the one that guarded his most valued treasures.

The mahogany frame held a photo of him and Edward, taken a few days after they returned to Resembool from Central. He was all bones and skin in that picture though he wasn’t as malnourished as he had been when Edward rescued him from the white void inside Truth.

“Brother…” Alphonse called out softly in the silence of the room; he missed him terribly.

Nostalgia guided him to the bookshelf where he picked up the picture. His eyes lingered on the photo; their carefree grins put a small smile on his face.

He decided to bring the photo with him to the desk.

Alphonse gingerly placed the picture frame on the desktop, nudging it next to a photo of him, Winry and Van that he always kept on the desk. Edward, like his son and Winry, meant the world to him, even if the sentiment wasn’t equally reciprocated. His big brother probably didn’t mean to be absent in their lives, he was sure of that. Edward’s aviation conglomerate was responsible for his continued absence—with a life like that, who has time for family?

Alphonse’s smile faded away.

The disassociation he experienced in the afternoon day kept him on edge for the rest of the day, moping about his brother made those feelings worse. Having chased away his sleep for good, Alphonse decided to do some work.

He walked to the opposite side of the room where a wooden mammoth shimmered under the incandescent lighting. The “Treasure Chest”, as Van calls the trunk, safeguarded most of his Xinguese artifacts, including valuable scrolls depicting complex alkahestry arrays. Ling told him once that he had the best artisans work on a cedar he personally chose for the creation of the chest. The beautifully carved box was a token of appreciation for all the hard work he put on teaching alchemy during his first travels to Xing.

Alphonse clapped his hands together and placed them flat on top of the chest. A series of clicks were heard as the transmutation activated the gears inside the locking mechanism. On the last click, the lock popped open. Alphonse lifted the heavy top then crouched.

“Let’s see…” He mumbled while carefully unloading carved bamboo cases from the chest.

There was a specific scroll he needed to find before his next class at the alkahestry school. He assumed the scroll was inside the chest if it wasn’t there then he would have to change the class to another day. A large stack of papers covered some bamboo cases sitting at the bottom of the chest. Alphonse grabbed the bunch, but as he moved the papers out of the way, a small letter fell from the stack, hitting the floor with a light thud. He placed the papers on the floor and picked up the letter. His eyebrows huddled together when he recognized the calligraphy work embellishing the document.

 

 

Alphonse fought against the dread slithering at the edges of his calm and lost. The poison injected in his system left him feeling completely wretched.

The scrolls could wait. Alphonse went to the desk with the letter in hand and sat. He kept his eyes fixed on the hànzì that spelled out his mentor’s name. He kept contemplating the characters all while debating (like he did many years ago) about opening the letter. He tried to regain his calm but uncertainty kept tipping the scales against him.

 

 

Alphonse spent a good chunk of the night glaring at the letter. He shook his head, feeling like an idiot. Why was he letting a stupid piece of paper rule over his emotions?

Not thinking it twice, Alphonse opened the drawer and took out a letter opener. He sliced the knife across the envelope, ripping apart the paper fibers and his blasé confidence in one swift movement…and he was back to square one.

Ten years ago he waved goodbye to his wife as the train left the Resembool Station. Seasons changed while he stayed in Xing, but so did his wife. After his return, Winry became aloof and secretive. Despite this, he kept trusting her, but this veneer of blind trust fractured when Pitt told him Edward had stayed in their house. And even though his instincts begged him to seek the truth, he ignored the request because couldn’t phantom the idea of Winry and Edward betraying him.

Alphonse let out a shuddering breath and mentally prepared himself for what he should’ve done years ago. Two fingers pinched the folded letter—now the color of withered grass—and pulled the folded papers out of the envelope. He unfolded the papers.

 _My dear boy, I hope that life is treating you well…_ Alphonse mumbled as he read the letter. A tender smile softened the creases of his distress.

_First and foremost, I apologize for telling you that consuming grub worms were part of the DNA-CHI testing. You see, I had placed a bet with His Highness. I told him you would eat those nasty critters, which you did admirably, I must admit. At least the herbal tea I gave you cured the imbalance in the solar plexus chakra so you could enjoy the rest of your short stay at our glorious nation._

Remembering the awful experience made Alphonse forget, if even for a minuscule moment, about conspiracies and betrayal.

_Anywho, I finally have conclusive results. I had to run the test three times, though—thank the gods you’re still young and virile. The extra samples didn’t go to waste like you thought they would. Ha, ha, ha!_

Alphonse’s face went red. He recalled Bao shoving three glass containers into his hands while telling him to “attack the one-eyed purple-headed warrior”. His mentor even went as far as to lend him a book meticulously adorned with pornographic ink washes.

Leaving the embarrassing memory behind, Alphonse moved to the second page, the portion of the letter that held the test results.

_Al, you’re like a son to me…_

He leaned forward, clutching the paper at ten and two, and started dissecting the complex terminology behind his mentor’s breakthrough science. His eyebrows raised in shock and his mouth went slack when he read the final conclusion.

Alphonse lowered the letter and stared with unseeing eyes at the picture frames he ironically placed side by side, then his mouth set in a thin, hard line of scorn.

 

* * *

 

Winry woke up with a start. She blinked a couple of times as she tried to commit to mind what she had dreamt about, but the elusive dream had been out of reach since the beginning. With luck, she supposed, the dream would reveal itself in the morning.

She reached for Alphonse’s warmth, but the space he occupied was cold and empty. Confused, she sat on the bed.

It took Winry a couple of seconds to chase away the sleep. She threw off her blanket and got up then made her way to the door. There was only one place in the house where Alphonse would be cooped up late at night: the study room.

 

 

Just as she expected, a halo of light illuminated the door leading to the study. Winry chuckled softly, amused that Alphonse’s habits still surprised her.

She pushed the door without making much noise as to not startle him. From the doorway, she caught a glimpse of the whiskey General Mustang had given him for his birthday. Her eyebrows knitted together when she noticed a third of the liquor was gone. It was a disturbing sight to see but it paled in comparison to the way Alphonse clasped their family picture.

“Al?” Winry called out to him, sensing something was wrong.

Alphonse stiffened. He made a scoffing sound before swiveling around in his chair to face her; Winry gasped.

Swollen capillaries spidered along Alphonse’s eyes, making his olive irises look like tarnished brass. She would’ve blamed this solely on the alcohol but the red rims inflaming his eyelids told her he had been crying. She swallowed down the lump of fear that had climbed up her throat.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Winry cooed, and entered the room when he didn’t answer.

Her heart drummed to a wild rhythm. Alphonse had never been the drinking type; something terrible must’ve happened.

There was a surly vibe to him; Winry had to garner courage in to get closer. But her level of confidence grew with each step forward, and by the time she stood next to her husband, she felt strong. Whatever bothered Alphonse, she would help him overcome it.

Winry laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder; Alphonse batted it away as if the touch burned. She sprung backward like a deer sensing danger.

Alphonse glared at her before turning his attention to the photo.

“Look at this picture perfect family.”

Winry tried to overcome the unsettling sensation of dread knotting her stomach. She spooked again when Alphonse got up from the chair, and she held her breath when he stood in front of her.

Alphonse shoved the picture frame into her hands. Her fingers curled tight around the ornate frame.

“Why are you giving this to me?” She asked, her voice tripping over every word.

Alphonse scowled. "So you too could appreciate it.”

Before Winry could say something, Alphonse gestured that he wasn’t finished.

“I forgot Brother.” He informed her as he made his way back to the desk. He picked up the other picture frame and dropped it into Winry’s hands.

“What are you doing?” She asked, straining to find a shred of logic in a mind clouded by alcohol.

“Well, he _is_ an integral part of our happy little family,” Alphonse replied with surprising clarity.

Winry shook her head. “Alphonse you’re not making any sen—”

He put a finger to her lips. “I know-I know.”

Winry caught sight of a menacing glint lurking in his bloodshot eyes.

Alphonse sensed Winry’s chi rippling with distress so he backed off, and returned to the desk area. “I promise you it’ll make sense soon,” he reassured as he leaned against the heavy desktop, but he miscalculated the distance, and almost landed on the floor. “I think I had too much to drink,” he said, blinking in surprise as he regained his control. But then burst into a fit of laughter.

At that moment, Alphonse reminded Winry of all the brutes that had stopped at one point or another in Rush Valley. She didn’t know whether to feel alarmed, scared or just plain angry.

“Why don’t you come to bed with me?” She suggested, choosing patience above all else. She even gave him a pleasant smile.

Alphonse bared his teeth in a smile of his own. “Don’t interrupt me while I’m talking.”

The menacing warning encouraged Winry to back away to a safer spot, but even at arm’s length from Alphonse, she couldn’t shake away the sensation that she was facing a ferocious beast.

“I want to talk about this guy—my dear brother.” He continued ranting.

The manner Alphonse referred to Edward, so full of disdain and bitter resentment, it made the knot in her stomach become tighter.

“Al, can it wait until morning?” Winry said, in a voice that was a sweet as honey.

Hating having to resort to lying and deceit, she hid her shame behind a loving smile.

“C’mon, Win! Humor me!” Alphonse yelled as he slammed his hand hard against the desktop; Winry almost dropped both picture frames.

Her eyes had gone round like saucers, wondering why her usual tactics didn’t work this time around.

The feral expression hardening his face softened after seeing how much he had frightened Winry, but the anger pent up inside kept growing strong.

He stomped his way back to her, entered her personal space and plucked both picture frames from her shaking hands. He returned to the desk and placed the family photo on the desk, but kept Edward’s in hand. He studied the photograph with a doleful look in his eyes.

“That brother of mine…I wonder what he’s doing right now…” Alphonse muttered as he kept his gaze trained on the picture, then his expression turned dark.

Winry’s heart galloped. It became painfully obvious that Alphonse was conjuring up something dreadful.

“Do you remember that time Edward dropped by to see me but I had already left to Xing?” He started, flashing sharp teeth as he asked the question.

Winry stood frozen in place, face white as paper, eyes unblinking.

“I do,” Alphonse continued.

His mannerisms reminded Winry of a wolf on the prowl.

“It was quite a story too—you fixing his leg, then him falling ill, and you taking care of him until he got all better—”

Alphonse paused. It was dead clear that he was carefully choosing his next set of words from within the haze of his inebriation.

”—then he went on his merry way to pursue yet another fuckstastic adventure.”

Winry barely nodded, she knew where Alphonse was going.

“But something truly amazing happened between the two of you.”

His devilish grin filled Winry with panic, an expression he found quite amusing, given the bitter circumstances.

“Winry!” Alphonse tsked, and almost chuckled. “I was talking about how you two managed to resolve your differences and made up like good friends.” He brought his hands to his hips, arms akimbo. “What else could it’ve been?”

Hollow laughter replaced mockery and derision.

“Refresh my mind, Win,” Alphonse said while sauntering back to the desk. His hands trembled with muted fury as he placed Edward’s picture back on the desktop. He turned to face Winry.

“How did such miracle happen?”

Winry’s face took on an ashen pallor.

“Al—” She started but Alphonse cut her off.

“Now Win. You promised to humor me, remember?” He insisted while wearing a pleasant smile though his teeth had clicked together in ire when he spoke.

Winry felt her throat tighten. She swallowed down the dread within and said, “We talked—”

“I’m sorry did I hear you say ’talked’ or was it ’fucked’?”

Winry sucked in a breath; it was disconcerting hearing Alphonse speak so crudely.

“You heard right, so which one is it?” He scoffed at Winry in contempt, knowing he had her where he wanted.

The gigantic dam, built from the ground up with lies and deceit, just burst open.

“Alphonse…” Winry breathed, pausing momentarily to swallow down more fear. “Just let me explain—”

“Forgiving Edward—” Alphonse charged in, but his voice broke. He cleared his throat and heaved the words out. “I actually believed all that crap you spoon-fed me.”

A profound sense of guilt cinched Winry’s throat, trapping words inside.

Alphonse studied her in silence before he finally relented.

He advanced on Winry, his strong hands latched onto her arms. Then he leaned in, his narrowing eyes peered into hers.

“Did you enjoy him fucking you?” Alphonse gritted out, squeezing her arms as he demanded an answer. “What am I even saying—of course you did!” He uttered, completely mystified by his own assertion. A cynical cackle filled the entire room. ”That’s the beauty of chi, Winry, energy can’t lie!”

Winry didn’t care how Alphonse found out about the affair, she was far too worried about her own safety. Her arms started to ache from the bruising hold, but she wasn’t going to let him sense her distress.

“You’re drunk,” Winry growled as she held his glare. Her willful determination doused his rage.

Alphonse released his grip on Winry and took a step back. His baleful expression changed to guilt when he saw red handprints encircling her ivory skin. He ran a shaky hand through his hair.

“Why him?” He went on to say, ignoring the hurt look in Winry’s eyes and concentrating on his own misery. ”Did you forget how he treated you? _How he dumped you?"_ He had to look away. “I knew—” He shook his head. “I KNEW you slept with him…I just couldn’t bring myself to accept it.”

Winry lowered her eyelids in shame. When she looked up she encountered a face stricken with profound grief.

“All this time…I was his fucking replacement, wasn’t I?”

Alphonse’s lament scathed; her mouth set in a grimace.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Winry muttered, giving the same response she had given Edward ten years ago.

She reached for one of his hands and placed it flat against her chest. “Chi can’t lie, you said it yourself!” She poured everything she had to offer—all her love and her conviction—into that gesture.

Alphonse’s grief-stricken expression softened. He held her silence, blinking at her with a measured gaze.

He gently withdrew his hand and let it fall to his side.

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth from the beginning?” Alphonse asked in a calm, low tone of voice.

Winry took a deep steadying breath, then held his impassive stare. For the first time in a long time, she was going to offer an honest answer.

“I was trying to protect you.” She said softly and smiled at him expectantly.

The rage in his eyes blazed back to life. “Bullshit! You were trying to protect yourself!” He bellowed, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

Winry blinked in astonishment.

“As if sleeping with my own brother wasn’t bad enough…” Alphonse chided, his voice on the rise, like his temper. “Letting me believe Van was mine—” he grimaced, “you’re despicable!”

“What?” Winry’s face set in a hard frown, her response sent Alphonse over the edge.

“YOU LET ME BELIEVE VAN WAS MY SON!”

The blatant accusation held Winry silent. Many questions raced through her mind, and all would remain unanswered.

“Shut up…” Winry hissed, her face mirroring Alphonse’s surly expression. "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?” She shrieked, baring her teeth defiantly. Winry pressed a hand to her chest. “I slept with Edward—I admit it! Are you happy now?”

The outburst left her shaking. She studied Alphonse’s dumbstruck face as she heaved. It felt good to have taken that load off her chest.

She swallowed to moisture her dry throat.

“I know you won’t believe me but I’ve regretted it happening every day of my life,” Winry added when guilt crept into her conscience, but then an image of her son flickered to life in her mind, and renewed anger flowed through her. Blue eyes narrowed into contemptuous slits. “How dare you say that Van isn’t your son?” She asked, clenching her jaw as tight as her fists. “HE IS YOURS!”

A wave of sadness washed over Alphonse as he pitied the woman whom he fell in love with a lifetime ago. If he knew back then that things between them were going to end the way they did, he wouldn’t have traveled to Xing. His eyebrows knitted together knowing it was pointless to dwell in the past. What’s done is done; it was time to move forward.

Alphonse went back to the desk and picked up the letter that had brought his world crashing down to pieces. He returned to Winry’s side determined to break hers.

“You tell me if he’s my son.” He said, his voice chucked with emotion, as he handed the letter.

Winry accepted the letter with a high degree of suspicion. “What the hell is this?” She asked when she saw Xinguese characters written in the sender address.

“Just read the damn letter.” Alphonse snapped tiredly, dying for this wretched spectacle to be over.

Winry hesitated at first, but did as told; her hands were shaking by the time she finished reading the last sentence.

Alphonse waited for a jarring spike in Winry’s chi before speaking again.

"Ten years ago I traveled to Xing in order to finish my research for the manuscript. And while you were frolicking in bed with Edward, I had Dr. Huang test me for infertility. It’s exactly as you read: I’m sterile.”

The letter glided to the floor, landing near Alphonse’s feet.

“No…it can’t be…” Winry started shaking all over; Edward being Van’s father had been the main theme of her nightmares ever since she found out she was pregnant.

Alphonse sighed, he could no longer feel the whiskey lulling his senses.

“I’ve had enough.” He muttered before walking past Winry and down the hall. His bitting tone had been as cruel as his stare.

Even though the thundering in her ears muffled all sounds, Winry managed to hear Alphonse moving farther away. She didn’t have to think it twice before chasing after him.

Alphonse had already made it to the front door and was putting his jacket on when Winry reached him.

“Where are you going?” Panic and desperation clung to the question.

“Right now, I can’t stand the sight of you.” He said, then turned to go.

“Wait!” Winry clung to one of his hands as he was about to open the door.

Alphonse scowled. “Let—go.”

Winry planted her knees on the wooden floor, cementing her fall from grace, the crowning moment of her life.

“Don’t go, please, I’m begging you!” She cried, but Alphonse fell silent to her pleas.

He pulled his hand free from her grasp. As he opened the door, Winry latched to the other hand.

"Don’t do this Al, please don’t do this—!” She begged, sniveling, her grief almost choking out her words.

But Alphonse was relentless.

“Let go of me right now or I won’t respond.”

The burning rage in his eyes told Winry that he was going to make good on his promise. She let her grip slip; Alphonse yanked his hand away and turned to go.

As he stepped outside the house, Alphonse took one last look at his weeping wife before taking off.

Winry’s fingers curled into fists, her fingernails dug deep into her palms. A stream of tears rolled down her face, and a choked sob tripped past her lips.

“I’m sorry-I’m so sorry!” She repeated over and over again but her laments never reached Alphonse’s ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This chapter has a commentary at Live Journal.](http://le-maleficent.livejournal.com/18442.html)


	16. SIXTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pitt visits Alphonse at the Alkahestry School. He talks some sense into him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late updated. Yes, it's been about 4-5 months since I've posted chapter 15. Anyway, I just want to let you know that I have a new Wordpress Blog. I plan to use the WP platform to keep everything sorted out nice and pretty. 
> 
> You can visit the blog at: [hirstories.wordpress.com](https://hirstories.wordpress.com)
> 
> I would love to hear what you thing about the new blog. :D

The natural noises surrounding the Alkahestry School kept Alphonse good company. A sudden creak in the wooden structure changed the endless tune. It also threw off his concentration ever so slightly. He opened his eyes when the chirping of baby birds cascaded down the branches of the nearby tree. From his sitting position on the porch, he could see mother bird feeding her little ones. The scene unfolding before him swelled his heart with joyful emotion. And he was grateful for it because his heart had been craving for something uplifting.

The moon had waxed and waned since he made the Alkahestry School his living quarters. After walking out on Winry, he could very well have taken up traveling, but for Van’s sake, he stayed in town. But in a town as small as Resembool, renting out a room at the local hostel would’ve provided enough fodder for gossip.

The chirping stopped, the babies were well fed. Mother bird left her nest in search of more nourishment for her offspring.

There was no rustling of leaves to offset the stillness that’d decided to come out of hiding.

Alphonse settled his gaze forward.

His eyes explored the hills and valleys interlocking the Elric and Rockbell lands.

He clutch his chest; betrayal still stung his heart.

 

* * *

 

 

Alphonse breathed in deeply. He knew that if he let this sentiment run unchecked, he would sink deeper into despair.

He rolled his shoulders then placed his palms flat on the wooden surface and lifted his pelvis a few inches from the ground. He sat back down and elongated his spine. His crossed legs didn't shift much, still, he refolded them neatly as required for the meditation pose.

He directed his attention to the yellow dot crowning the farthest hill then closed his eyes. For the third time that morning, he tuned into the Dragon’s Pulse in hopes of ridding himself from the darkness festering in his heart. . . . . . . Two steps back, arms neatly folded across her chest, and her lower lip pinched between her teeth; Winry was more than ready to tackle the blueprint pinned to the cork wall.

She studied every inch of the technical drawing with utmost care. This new leg prototype was her most ambitious project yet.

Joints had never been Winry’s strong suit. While knee and ankle joints were rather complicated to design, they didn't pose any real problem in application. The person she was designing the leg for had suffered a terrible accident while serving in the line of duty. The man’s leg had literally ripped off when the airplane he was operating crashed to the ground. The report also stated that his pelvis had been shattered upon impact, and he also came close to suffering an L1 injury. The man lost a limb but thankfully not his ability to walk, with automail and physical therapy, he would be able to return to duty.

Winry switched from folded arms to hands on hips. She leaned in closer, eyes squinting as she focused her attention on the rotor cup drawing.

The surgeon assigned to the case should've already debriefed the patient about the procedure. The surgeon was going to enlarge the patient’s pelvis cup in order for Winry to be able to insert the metal ball and stem system, which were going to become the foundation for the plate that would keep the automail leg fastened in place. A surgery of that caliber could only be performed in one of the many state-of-the-art facilities situated in Central.

Winry stifled a groan of frustration. “Those flying machines are death traps!”

She squinted again then leaned back.

Something in the design was wrong and she couldn't figure out exactly what. She kept staring at the blueprint while making some mental calculations. First try, second try. She gave up on the fifth try.

Winry knew it was time to take a break when she caught herself baring her teeth at the drawing.

 

The first thing Winry did once she went upstairs was to plop on a chair in the breakfast nook. The second thing she did was to blow out some steam.

She pulled the green bandana off her head which she squeezed tightly the moment she decided to look out the window.

A lone white dot stood defiantly stood at the top of the farthest hill.

“Alphonse…” A tempest of conflicting emotions swept over her.

Her frustration, and her lack of concentration; she could easily pin all this on her estranged husband.

One month and two days had already passed by since the night Alphonse walked out the door and out of her life.

“He hates my guts.” The words tripped out from her mouth in a muted whisper. She drew in a harsh breath.

Her grandmother’s voice broke through her thoughts.

_You’ll have a beautiful family, Winry. I just hope to be around to see it. Family, my dear child, is what makes life worth living._

The memory was far from reassuring.

Winry dropped her gaze to the bandana crumpled in her hand. “I should've come clean.”

She’d always admired Alphonse for his kindness and benign disposition, so why couldn't she trust him? He would've forgiven her…

Alphonse Elric would forgive her, but he would never be able to look at her the same way again. Her mouth set in a grim line.

Feeling emotionally exhausted, Winry heaved a deep sigh.

She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, trying to shield herself from the gloominess surrounding her if only for a brief moment.

Winry turned inward, just like Alphonse had taught her, and searched the depths of her soul for a shred of inner peace. She found nothing.

She opened her eyes, and for a moment, her gaze became lost in the emerald expanse beyond the window pane. A wave of anguish washed over her as her thoughts shifted from Alphonse to Van.

Winry was thankful for the innocence of her boy. So far, Van was unaware of the storm brewing in his own backyard.

It had been Van himself who'd told her what Alphonse had been up to ever since he left his family behind. Her estranged husband apparently had been undergoing a special training at the Alkahestry School. _”The hardest test he ever faced!”_ Van cheered with a proud grin on his face.

News of Alphonse's training had also spread to town. Beatriz Dillon, the youngest of Gertrude’s cookie-cutter daughters, already questioned her about it.

_”You must be deeply in love with that man to put up with so much!_

Winry scoffed; that woman even inherited her mother’s hypocrisy.

The way Beatriz’s upper lip had twitched as she lavished her with honeyed words reminded Winry about how much the woman actually despised her.

Winry still hasn't completely understood why Beatriz loathed her the way she did. If she relied on old rumors, then it was safe to conclude that jealousy fueled Beatriz’s animosity.

“Can't wait to hear what she has to say when she finds out about Van!”

Winry immediately regretted her flippant remark. Her disposition turned glum.

“Granny,” she whispered to the empty room, “Will you help me get through this ordeal?”

 

* * *

 

 

A lone figure appeared over the green horizon; Alphonse rose to a standing position.

He walked across the porch and leaned on one of the white wooden pillars and waited for the stranger to travel the lone road to his property.

The glare blinded eyes at that time of the day so Alphonse raised a hand to shield his. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when he finally recognized the stranger by his red tuft of wild hair.

“Hey, Pitt,” Alphonse greeted the redhead once he came within earshot.

Pitt Renback raised his hand and waved a lazily in return.

“What brings you all the way here?” Alphonse asked just as his eyes spotted the basket Pitt was carrying.

Pitt lifted said basket and offered a smart smile in response. “Becky went overboard again.”

“What did she make?” Alphonse asked as he moved away from the porch entrance to let Pitt pass.

“Spinach quiche and she packed some leftover pot roast.” Pitt handed the basket to Alphonse then headed for the door.

Alphonse hummed in delight when his nostrils got assaulted by the two distinct smells. “Tell Becky my thanks.” He said and so did his grumbling stomach.

Pitt looked over his shoulder and offered Alphonse a smart grin. “Will do.”

 

Alphonse gently folded the linen napkin over the plate and sighed in contentment; Becky’s dishes never ceased to impress him.

Pitt folded his arms on the table but not before pushing up his glasses. Then he leaned on his folded arms and gave Alphonse a serious look—the one he always uses whenever he means business.

“You know,” he started, his tone more severe than Alphonse had expected, “Me and the misses are getting tired of lying to your son.”

Alphonse’s contentment vanished on the spot. Looking down at the dirty plate in front of him, his face twisted into an odd scowl.

“Whoa—” Pitt exclaimed. “You're more than upset, Al.”

Alphonse raised his eyebrows in surprise; Pitt smiled wolfishly.

“I guess I'm finally getting this ‘chi’ thing.”

Under different circumstances, Alphonse would've made a snarky remark just to tease his friend, but having his privacy invaded hadn't sat well with him.

_Is this how Winry felt—?_

A wave of remorse swept over him, but he pushed the sentiment away. He mustn't fall into the trap of making excuses for what she'd done.

“And I don't think I've ever seen you this troubled.” Pitt interrupted. “Whatever’s going on must be pretty serious.”

Alphonse’s chi darkened, the drastic shift caught Pitt by surprise. The energetic surge was so oppressive it sent chills up his spine. His brow tensed. “Al, what the hell is going on?”

Eyes turning haunted, Alphonse lowered his gaze and ran a finger along the napkin. “Everything’s fine,” he answered dryly.

When Alphonse looked up, Pitt noticed that his face was devoid of all expression.

Due to their long-standing friendship, Pitt decided to be blunt. “You know what Al? You can be more infuriating than your idiot brother when you want to.”

Pitt cut himself off; Alphonse had offered him a thunderous glower that made him reconsider the seriousness of the situation. He leaned back in his chair and eyed his friend who at the moment was ignoring his presence altogether. As he stared, he began to wonder why Alphonse’s chi blazed with fury when he was compared to Edward. It didn't take him long to figure it out.

Pitt braced himself for he was about to enter into dangerous territory.

“That day at the market,” he began, pausing just enough to make sure Alphonse was paying attention, “You had no idea that Edward had stayed with Winry.”

The tortured look in his Alphonse’s eyes spokes volumes.

For several seconds, Pitt remained silent. But he knew he had to say something even if it was for the sake of shattering the deafening silence quickly filling up the room.

After swallowing hard, he pressed on.

“Al—”

“Van is Edward’s.”

Pitt’s mind went blank. Thank goodness he was sitting. If he'd been standing he was sure his knees would've given out.

“Holy shit…” He blurted out.

Then a heartbeat passed. And another.

 _“His?”_ Pitt asked. He just couldn't come to terms with what he just heard.

Alphonse gave a curt nod to which Pitt answered with an incredulous scoff.

Shaking his head, Pitt muttered to himself. “Wow…just wow…” He even scrubbed a hand over his mouth.

Dropping his hand, he said, “Well, shit, Al. What makes you so sure that Van is Ed’s?” He wasn't trying to be disrespectful to his long-time friend. Unless Winry had told Alphonse herself, he could most likely, due to jealousy, be jumping to the wrong conclusions.

Alphonse went very still at the question. Deep sorrow flashed across his olive eyes, and a sad smile followed suit. He let out a long sigh then turned to Pitt.

“Because I'm sterile, and by process of elimination, well, you get the picture.” His tone was flat and devoid of emotion.

Pitt raised a bushy eyebrow. “Are you one-hundred percent sure about that?”

Alphonse took offense at the question yet he couldn't blame his friend for not believing his story. If things were reversed, he would be acting just like Pitt.

“I got tested by my mentor years ago.” Alphonse continued. His voice turned gruff and shook slightly as he spoke. “I had the results in hand, but by then, Winry told me she was pregnant.” He grimaced. “I couldn't open the letter.”

Pitt didn't need to tap into Alphonse’s chi, pain and shame were clearly etched in his face.

“Did she know?”

Pitt wanted to be wrong in his assumption but things indicated to the contrary.

Alphonse's lips twisted into a bitter smile. “No, she couldn't have known—not with absolute certainty.” He shut his eyes for a moment, sighed, then continued. “She was acting strange even before you told me about Ed. I should've pressured her into telling me the truth when I had the chance.”

“Yes, you should've had…” Pitt muttered under his breath which earned him another glower.

Pitt sighed, then asked, “What are you going to do?”

Alphonse ignored the question.

But Pitt pressed on.

“You know, Van is not the only one who’s asking questions.”

Alphonse’s eyes widened. The news caught him by surprise, but he quickly regained his composure. “Is that so?”

He was well aware that this question would come out one way or another, but he wasn't expecting for it to be so soon. Then again, Resembool was a town that hadn't changed much in half a century, and gossip tends to run rampant in stagnant towns. People still gave him the occasional dirty look for having married Winry when it was well known that Edward had been her initial love interest. A tale of infidelity from which a child was conceived would certainly shake the town all the way to its foundation. In the midst of the ensuing scandal, the good people of their quaint little town would take their time dissecting every sordid detail. Conclusions would be drawn, none of them good.

A surge of fear left Alphonse feeling cold. His thoughts went to his son, to Winry, and even his brother. Was it fair to toss them into a hellish future?

“Nothing.” Alphonse uttered.

Pitt raised a questioning eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“You asked me what I was going to do.” Alphonse sucked in a sharp breath. “I plan to do nothing.”

He paused a moment to better organize his argument in his mind. “I think—no—I understand why Winry did what she did.”

Pitt gaped at him. “You're kidding—”

Alphonse stopped Pitt’s attempt to interrupt him with a hard stare. “Winry lied to protect us…” He said, but then allowed his words to trail off, wondering if he should continue. Sighing, he added, “Van might be Ed’s, but I've been there for that boy since the day he was born. I fed him, clothed him, loved him. I'm the only father he has ever known.”

Pitt pinched the bridge of his nose. “Stop it, Al…just stop.”

That had Alphonse falling into silence.

“I understand that you're grieving and not thinking straight. If someone would've told me that my Jake wasn't mine, I probably would be acting exactly as you are. But making up excuses for what happened in the past is wrong. Edward needs to know the truth about Van. So does Van.”

Pitt made it sound so simple.

“In all these years, Edward hadn't made a single effort to get to know Van.” Alphonse scoffed. “He doesn't know what Van likes and dislikes. He doesn't know that he's scared of thunder like his mom or that he likes to be hugged when no one’s looking—he wouldn't know what to do with him!”

Pitt looked away. He ached for his friend, for what he'd lost, for what he'd become. What was happening wasn't fair nor easy for Alphonse, nor for Winry or for Edward, if he ignored the roles they played in this colossal mess.

He turned to Alphonse, who had been staring at the wall for quite some time, most likely attempting to focus his energy on something other than anger and hurt.

“Alphonse, do you know why I respect you as a friend?”

Alphonse snapped back to attention. He remained quiet, though, patiently waiting to hear the answer.

Pitt offered him a genuine smile. “It's because you're a man of impeccable integrity.” Pitt paused to consider his next words. “What you're planning to do goes against everything you stand up to. If you continue down this path, you'll lose sight of yourself.”

Pitt could see the slight widening of Alphonse’s eyes.

“I'm well aware there's nothing that can be done to prevent a scandal once the truth is out in the open. People will talk, and they will judge. They might say horrible things—”

Alphonse opened his mouth to speak but Pitt put a hand up. “Let me finish.”

Alphonse frowned but still obeyed the curt command. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and waited for Pitt to continue.

“Remember that lies and deceit tend to come out at the worst possible moment. Van deserves honesty from his parents,” he pointed a finger at Alphonse, ”Yes, I mean you and Winry.”

Pitt sensed Alphonse bristling. He pressed on.

“You might not be Van’s biological father.” Pitt was careful not to bring up Alphonse’s actual kinship to Van. “But you're the closest thing he has. And Edward…” he trailed off as he searched for the right words to say to his hurting friend, “Ed deserves a chance to be one.”

Alphonse’s chi fluctuated erratically.

To Pitt it looked like what he was saying was taking effect, or at least that's what he was hoping for. Van, who in a way had become part of his family thanks to Jake, deserved to have a choice in the matter, and the only way that could ever happen is to know the history revolving his birth.

Pitt paused to take a deep breath. He could see brooding behind his friend’s eyes. He could've stopped right there but someone had to be the voice of reason—for Alphonse, and even for Winry. He cleared his throat for a second time then took off from where he left off.

“Al, what do you think will happen if Van finds out the truth on his own accord?”

Alphonse’s olive eyes rounded at the question.

“I guarantee you he will hate you both for not telling him the truth. Do you want him to despise you like Ed despised your dad?”

Pitt was sure the irony didn't escape Alphonse.

He pushed back the chair then stood. “I wish I could help ease your pain, my friend.”

There was something akin to despair showing in Alphonse’s face, a look that might be better defined as dejection. And it made Pitt reconsider his approach.

He offered Alphonse a sympathetic smile. “I'll tell Van he can stay over tonight. I'm sure Jake will love a sleepover.”

His expression changed to one of concern. “Please go home, Al, and talk to your wife. Make things right.”

At Alphonse's total lack of response, Pitt added, “The longer you wait, the harder it'll be.” And with that, he left Alphonse to his own devices.

Shoulders tense and mouth set into a deep scowl, Alphonse sat in the same spot, staring out the window. His eyes followed Pitt until he vanished out of sight.

Sighing, he turned his attention inward. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest and began the arduous task of sorting out the jumbled mess in his life.

 

* * *

 

 

Winry squinted at the blueprint and then sighed. Annoyed and highly frustrated, she had no other choice but to put the large document down.

There were too many lines populating the drawing, however, it was the minuscule notes framing the document what gave her the most problems. Every word jotted on the document looked blurry; either her eyes were too tired or she was in dire need of an oculist. Winry recalled her grandmother losing her perfect eyesight around her current age. Her lips pursed in displeasure.

A loud knock on the door caught her by surprise. Immediately, she raised her eyes to the clock and wondered if she'd missed an appointment. After a moment of careful consideration, she corroborated that there were no more appointments for the rest of the day. She had a walk-in.

Another knock reached the back of the shop while she stood up.

Her sandals scraped against the concrete surface as walked to the vestibule.

Winry got to her tip-toes and looked through the eyehole. Her eyes widened, recognizing the person patiently waiting behind the closed door. She drew in a steadying breath and tried to calm down the fluttering in her stomach.

A sudden knock made her lose balance but she recovered fast by planting both feet firmly on the ground. The loud noise still rang inside her head.

She swallowed hard then opened the door.

A tense second hung between her and her husband.

“Winry.” Alphonse’s greeting matched his cold expression.

“Alphonse,” Winry answered in a similar fashion.

This wasn't a good start; a worried frown appeared on her face.

“We need to talk,” Alphonse added.

His withdrawn attitude sent Winry back to the moment she entered the study and found him lost in thought while clutching to one of their many family pictures.

Winry drew in a sharp breath as she returned to the present moment. Exhaling, she said, “I know.”

While Alphonse had every right to reproach and berate, she hoped he had come over to have a civilized conversation.

Ever since he left the house, all of her energy was focused on creating an illusion of normalcy. But such gargantuan effort had pushed her to the limit. She was certain she would not survive another violent confrontation.

Winry stepped away from the door to let her estranged husband in.

Alphonse entered the vestibule. He looked around the room in silence, his gaze stopping on several points of interest as if he were a first-time customer.

“Can you give me five minutes?”

Alphonse turned his head in her direction; Winry forced herself to remain calm. Smiling tensely, she added, “I need to secure power and also jot some notes in my sketchbook.”

Alphonse held his gaze on Winry for a short moment. “I'll wait for you upstairs,” he said then walked past Winry.

Winry waited for Alphonse’s steps to fade before releasing a heavy sigh.

Her mind reeled with apprehension as she hung the store sign on the door. . . . It took Winry five minutes to tidy up the shop and another fifteen to bring her nerves under control.

The delicate scent of lavender met Winry halfway up the stairs.

Her anxiety must've been quite obvious for Alphonse to take it upon himself to make tea. Or maybe the tea was merely a conversation starter? She would soon find out.

“I made some tea,” Alphonse said the moment Winry opened the door connecting the automail shop to the living area.

Winry couldn't help but notice that the tension in his voice was in direct conflict with the serene expression on his face.

“Here.” He handed over her cup.

Winry held the teacup with both hands. She stared at the dark liquid before bringing the cup closer to inhale the soothing aroma. Then, she took a small sip.

“Hm…” Winry lost herself in the sweetness of honey and herbal heat.

For the briefest of moments, the crushing weight of guilt and remorse became as light as down.

Winry looked up and settled her gaze on her husband. “Thank you.”

Alphonse offered her a small smile in return.

He walked to the breakfast nook and pulled a chair out for Winry. “How are things?” He asked as he motioned for her to sit down.

Alphonse was being his usual gentlemanly self; Winry felt more at ease.

Feeling hopeful, she walked up to the chair and took a seat then waited for Alphonse to sit as well.

“Work’s the same,” Winry said as she got comfortable.

She averted her gaze for a fraction of a second, then added, “Van keeps asking about when you're coming back.” A pause. “Are you coming back home?”

“Winry…” Alphonse’s eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

The way Winry shifted uncomfortably in her chair, let him know that his response wasn't what she was expecting. Quite frankly, he didn't know the answer to that question, at least not right away.

Alphonse cleared his throat. “Winry,” he said, his purpose clear in his determined gaze, “I’m sorry for the way I treated you. I was drunk, and I lost control.”

Winry's eyes dropped to half-mast. Alphonse had come back to make amends; she must do the same.

She drew in a sharp breath, then said, “You hurt me, Al, more than you can ever imagine, but—” Her throat constricted with emotion and she swallowed with difficulty. “I've hurt you many times more. I’m sorry.”

Alphonse also dropped his gaze.

“Why couldn't you trust me?” The question slipped out in a croaked whisper.

Winry flinched. How many times had she asked herself that same question?

She drew in a shaky breath.

“I was afraid of losing you. I—” Winry stopped. There was no excuse in the world that could justify what she'd done. She knew it and so did Alphonse, but she still needed to make him understand.

Winry reached for one of his hands.

“I would never hurt you on purpose.” She said as she gently squeezed his hand.

Alphonse peered into her eyes. Her chi was intermingling with his. The sadness and desperation in her energy made him suffer an unbearable churning of guilt and regret. He was now sure that his coercive tactics drove Winry into a corner.

If only his jealousy and insecurities hadn't blinded him, the outcome of their situation would've been much different.

“I know.” He said behind a sad smile.

His fingers twined with hers, creating a bond between them that went beyond the words he’d spoken.

Winry’s eyes moistened and a sob rushed out of her. Alphonse felt his heart constricting with emotion. He let go of her hand and went to her side. Without saying one word, he captured her shaking frame in a tight embrace. Sobbing louder, Winry wrapped her arms around him and held on just as tightly. Alphonse only let go of Winry when she spilled her last tear.

When they separated, Alphonse saw a transformation in his wife. It was as if storm clouds had parted to give way to the sun. Her chi was clearer and lighter. He couldn't remember the last time he sensed that kind of energy in her. A fond smile drew on his lips but it faded fast. Winry might've reached cathartic release but he hasn't.

There were many things that he still needed to uncover.

Alphonse sat back on his chair; Winry’s eyebrows huddled together in fear and confusion. Her chi shrunk.

He simply stared at her, second-guessing himself as to how to proceed.

But there was no easy way to ask Winry what he’d feared for years.

While holding Winry’s panicked gaze, he drew in a sharp breath, and upon release, said, “Winry, do you still love Edward?”

Winry stared at Alphonse with her blue eyes wide in apprehension.

An image of Edward’s face flashed in her mind.

“I—”

_Edward._

His smile, his attitude, his lame jokes…

Her heart began drumming faster inside her chest.

His disarming gaze, his silken hair…

She swallowed hard.

The sweet taste of his mouth, the warmth of his skin…

A surge of guilt washed over her.

His heartbreak.

Shocked and confused by these sentiments, Winry pressed her hand to her mouth.

Throughout the years, and even after knowing Edward was Van’s father, Winry took every conceivable measure to suppress everything that had to do with him from her mind. One simple question—one miserable question—brought down all these efforts as if they were nothing.

In the midst of her internal turmoil, Winry remembered she wasn't alone in the room. Her frightened eyes turned to Alphonse.

And her stomach dropped to her feet.

Alphonse held silent. The grimace on his face told her, he'd been studying her chi. She found it quite ironic that Alphonse could possess the same heartbroken expression as Edward.

Alphonse stared at Winry for some time and then looked away.

His silence was killing her.

After what seemed like an eternity, Alphonse settled his gaze on her.

“Winry,” he began but paused to clear his throat. “Why did you marry me?”

Her throat cinched around a sob.

Pushing past that torturous sensation, she said, “Because I love you.”

Alphonse closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. “But you also love my brother.”

He almost laughed when the rippling of her energy reached his senses.

Winry wasn't making any of this easy for neither of them, in fact, her declaration stirred something dark within him. And this dangerous sentiment incited him to consider possibilities he would've never considered under normal circumstances. Out of fear and confusion, he pushed those outrageous suggestions out of his head.

Remembering his earlier conversation with Pitt, he opened his eyes and looked intently at Winry.

Without thinking it twice, Alphonse said, “Ed needs to know about Van.”


	17. SEVENTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward heads to Resembool. Everything is not as he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi dear readers! I have another chapter ready for you!!! Originally I merged this chapter with the next one but I decided to break them apart again because it was getting close to 10,000 words and there's just too much going on. I must say, this chapter was a bitch to write/edit, mainly because there's a backstory, but mostly because, well, it's quite angsty. Here's "Get Wrecked, Part 1".

There wasn't much to see past the window pane yet Edward couldn't help but stare. He pulled out his pocket watch from his silk vest and snapped it open.

He treated the watch with as much indifference as he did with his surroundings.

After reading the time, Edward snapped the watch shut and slid it back into his pocket, then looked back out the window.

A dog dashed from the left flank.

Barking, running to and fro—the blur-of-a-dog paused just long enough for Edward to differentiate a Shetland sheepdog from a collie.

The dog decided to stay still for another second before bursting into a sprint, returning to where it came from.

One minute later, the dog was back in full view.

The sound of sheep bleating spread like fog across the grassland.

Edward’s brows dropped down tightly over his golden eyes, and his lips clamped into a hard line. His gaze locked with the horizon bordering the ample plains.

The glow of early morning still colored the mountain range with pale pink.

Edward searched for a peculiar shape in the mountain tops. It took him two tries, but he found what he was looking for: the jagged boulder that looked like an aquiline nose.

“Dad’s Nose” was the name Alphonse had given to that boulder back when he was still in the armor. The rock formation only came into view when a person reached the vast grasslands of Southeastern Amestris.

_Two more hours to go…_

Edward leaned back in his seat then sighed.

Dorothea Armstrong, his personal assistant, suggested traveling first class. He hadn't been entirely convinced about the idea, so Dori, as he preferred to call her, went on to explain that if he was going to use ground transportation, he should do it in comfort. Having a soft spot for his young assistant didn't help. He agreed to her request, even though he shouldn't.

Edward crossed his arms over his chest and grunted in annoyance.

Thanks to his momentary lapse in judgment, everyone—from the train staff to the rest of the passengers—were wondering who was the man occupying the only first class car in the entire train. If he'd wanted to bring unnecessary attention to himself he would've done it by taking to the skies. But Edward couldn't blame his assistant. He would've attracted attention nonetheless. He'd wanted to bring his chauffeur with him on this trip regardless of his choice of travel.

Alphonse opposed to that idea.

The way his brother demanded that he be the one driving raised even more suspicion about their appointed meeting.

 _“Why can we meet at my office?”_ He asked Alphonse during their telephone conversation.

 _“You need to come home, Ed. End of discussion.”_ Alphonse snapped back.

His younger brother was all about cordiality and proper conduct. Needless to say, the curt retort had made him anxious. Since Alphonse wasn't inspiring much confidence, Edward did what he does best. He relentlessly pestered and questioned his brother until he got under his skin.

 _“It's about Winry.”_ Alphonse finally said after letting out an aggravated sigh.

A million things went through Edward’s head in an instant. Out of all preconceived possibilities, only two made sound sense: either Winry got seriously hurt at work or Alphonse found out about the affair. Edward could bet his entire fortune on the latter.

 _“I'll be there as soon as I can.”_ He made damn sure to force a calm in his voice before giving his answer.

And that had been almost a week ago.

The bleating was bouncing off the walls inside the car.

Edward leaned closer to the window and began counting each fluffy head like he did in his younger years. He stopped after reaching thirty. The sheep, like everything else around him, reminded him of home…of Winry.

_"It's funny how life works.”_

Her words, just like her expression, held as much contempt for him as it did for herself.

_“I didn't get to be your wife but I certainly got to be your mistress."_

Winry’s pain-stricken image and her scathing accusation haunted him still.

_"I'm truly happy it happened."_

Even to this day, the memory of having made love to Winry kept him warm on cold, lonely nights.

His words had been more than a testament to the sin committed; he'd bared his all in that simple declaration.

Edward’s eyes turned distant, remembering of what took place next still made his heart ache.

_"I won't tell, Al."_

It was a promise he'd kept to this day.

The shepherd finally came into view.

A straw hat two sizes too big hid the shepherd’s face, still, Edward could tell he was an old man by the curvature of his spine.

Like his herd, the man moved about the field without a care in the world.

Again, Edward took out his pocket watch. Close to half hour had passed since the train stopped. He slid the watch in his vest pocket.

After planting his elbow on the narrow window ledge, Edward let his thoughts drift. They settled on Van, his nephew. Edward’s eyes narrowed, realizing he knew next to nothing about the boy.

From being out of the country to hating his nephew’s name, he used every excuse in the book that could help him keep his distance from the happy little boy.

His mouth set into a grim line.

What else was he supposed to do? Van was a painful reminder of all he let go.

 _It's been for the best…_ Edward reminded himself.

His brother, Winry…Van; they were better off without him in their lives.

The train suddenly blasted hot air like a raging bull.

The car jerked forward bringing Edward closer to his final destination.

 

* * *

 

 

The steam thinned throughout the platform. Edward stared from behind the window at the mass of people moving about.

Resembool Train Station only received a high volume of people twice a day: in the mornings when workers from nearby towns arrived to work in the fields, and in the evenings when said workers rode the train back home.

Just like the blast of steam, it didn't take long for the cacophony of human life to die down.

Edward took out his pocket watch and flipped it open. The train arrived at the station even later than originally estimated.

After long years of riding in trains, Edward knew their schedule by heart.

The station workers just relieved the conductors and proceeded with their routine check. All engines needed to pass a ten-point inspection whenever they traveled long distances, this ensured the safety of everyone aboard the train.

Edward slid the watch into his vest pocket then looked out the window. He intended to spot Alphonse before he spotted him.

A small knock on the door made Edward jump in his seat.

“Come in,” he said after clearing his throat.

The door slid open.

Edward let out a sigh of relief; Alphonse wasn't the one who'd knocked.

“Mr. Elric sir,” said the pretty attendant. “Do you want me to make arrangements for transportation?”

The girl was so flustered by his presence that Edward couldn't help but to smile.

“My brother is supposed to pick me up,” he replied fondly.

“Very well, sir,” the attendant said, her face now glowing red like coal burning inside a train furnace.

“Um…as you're aware, we're servicing this train before our next departure. You can stay here until then. I'll come back to get you when your ride arrives. What's your brother’s name so I can alert the other attendants?”

“It's Alphonse Elric.”

“Alphonse Elric…” she repeated, nodding once while she took the mental note.

Her dark eyes went to the empty tumbler sitting on the tray.

“Do you want me to get you another?”

Edward also looked at the drinking glass. He'd been quite embarrassed for requesting a strong drink so early in the morning, but he desperately needed something to take the edge off.

He waved a hand in front of his chest. “No, miss, I'm fine.”

“Very well, Mr. Elric.”

The attendant bowed then slid the door close.

Edward loosened his necktie.

He peered through the window again and finally spotted Alphonse.

His brother was sitting on the bench he once sat in with Winry while waiting for the train that would take him to closer to his journey to the West.

Alphonse was staring at him in quiet contemplation.

A bad feeling swirled in the pit of Edward’s stomach.

Edward picked up the empty tumbler and chugged what was left in it (melted ice rather than whiskey at that point) then set it back on the tray.

After drawing in a breath of air, he stood up and opened the small compartment near the sliding door. He took out his briefcase then opened the door.

He made sure that his breathing was calm and measured before disembarking the train.

 

“You're only carrying that?” Alphonse chided as his brow scrunched in a frown. Sighing, he added, “I guess I'll lend you some of my clothes.”

Edward approached his brother, his lips pressed into a hard line.

“I plan to leave this evening.”

Alphonse’s frown deepened.

He held silent as he stared at his older brother, then, without breaking the line of sight, he stood up.

“Let’s go.”

Edward didn't miss the hostility in his brother’s tone. He gave him a curt nod in response.

 

They walked down the platform, with Alphonse a few steps ahead.

There had been no warm welcome; the bad feeling swirling in Edward’s stomach worsened.

 

* * *

 

 

Edward took off his necktie and unbuttoned the top three buttons of his white dress shirt. He deposited the tie on top of his jacket which was neatly folded over his briefcase. Still feeling stuffy, Edward rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows and took off his vest.

“Much better,” he said to himself as a gentle breeze hit his damp back. He'd forgotten how hot Resembool was at that time of the year.

Edward ran a hand through his hair, being careful not to mess it up much.

Lately, he wore his hair in a half-pony tail. Dori suggested it was an elegant way of wearing his now shoulder-length hair. She'd also suggested letting his beard grow out but that idea didn't go anywhere. He would never sport a beard, it was bad enough that he started wearing glasses like his late father. He quickly shook the image of Hohenheim out of his head.

Edward heard some giggling as he placed his vest over his tie and jacket.

He looked over his shoulder and saw two female employees standing near the train station entrance. For what he could tell, one woman was older than the other. They weren't familiar faces, so he decided to ignore them, but that changed when he caught them glancing at him while whispering to one another.

“Stupid women,” Edward scoffed under his breath as he turned his head forward. These women hadn't realized they were within earshot.

“That's the older brother. I've heard he's a bigwig in Central,” said one woman to the other.

“I bet he’s loaded,” the other woman offered in response.

Edward noticed that the woman who initiated the conversation had a gruff voice while the other sounded upbeat.

“I've heard that he is!” The gruff-sounding woman squealed, though she tried to tone down her excitement.

“Oh, my!” The other woman giggled. “Do you know if he’s married by any chance?”

“I don't think so…”

There was a small pause.

“He used to be Winry’s boyfriend back in the day,” the gruff-sounding woman whispered.

“No way!”

A loud shush followed then nothing else. Moments later, the gruff-sounding woman began flapping her gums again.

“I've heard that he still had feelings for Winry but Alphonse stole her away from him.”

“That's just wrong!”

Edward began tapping his automail foot; Alphonse was taking his sweet fucking time bringing the car around.

More whispering reached his ears, then a loud chortle caused him to curl his upper lip in disdain.

The upbeat-sounding woman, exhilarated by the juicy gossip, ventured a step further. “Can you imagine if Winry still had feelings for her ex-boyfriend?”

“Now-now,” the gruff-sounding woman chastised, “You know those things only happen in trashy novels—”

Edward had enough of their malicious comments. He cleared his throat with no warning then turned around and gave the venomous women his most menacing glower.

He had the satisfaction of watching both women trip over each other as they scurried back inside the station.

“Fucking idiots.”

As Edward stared at the space the gossipy women had occupied, his irritation quickly turned into worry. He'd been right about staying away from Resembool all these years.

The sound of a car horn broke through Edward’s unsettling thoughts. He turned back around just as Alphonse stopped in front of the passenger pick up area.

Edward collected his vest, necktie, and jacket, and folded them over his arm, then grabbed his suitcase with the other. He went straight to the back of the car and put his belongings in the trunk. He closed the trunk, went around, and got inside the car.

 

The drive away from town was spent in awkward silence.

After fifteen minutes of driving, they arrived at the intersection that led to lands owned by different families, including both Rockbell and Elric.

Alphonse turned right instead of left.

“What the hell, Al?”

That bad feeling swirling in Edward’s stomach returned with a vengeance.

Alphonse looked at him for the first time since he got in the car.

“We're going to the Alkahestry School,” he said as his expression set into a hard frown.

 

* * *

 

 

Edward’s scowl worsened once he laid eyes upon the building Alphonse called Alkahestry School.

Decades ago, Alphonse formally asked him for permission to take over the old family lot. Of course, he didn't mind. There was too pain, horror and heartbreak imprinted on the land that he wanted nothing to do with it.

The meeting in which Alphonse explained what he wanted to do with the lot happened a month after the affair. They met at Lolita's, even sat at the usual table.

Amidst the smell of stale coffee and greasy doughnuts, Alphonse talked about his dream of creating a school where Amestrians could learn about alkahestry.

Edward understood that Alphonse wanted to continue the tradition of “giving back eleven”.

His brother’s kind disposition reminded Edward of what was important in life. He couldn't remember when he stopped “giving back eleven” but Alphonse’s enthusiasm and selflessness was all it took for him to start helping others too.

The airplane prototype design received mixed results during his initial presentation to the military. Not even Mustang was able to persuade the lackluster men assigned to positions of power after the fall of the Bradley regime.

Edward was no expert business man but knew who was.

Having sworn to uphold the “Give Back Eleven Principle”, Edward ventured to the Armstrong manor where he was able to give his presentation to the Armstrong patriarch. Eccentricity and a keen eye for innovation were what made the Armstrong family so powerful. A & E Aeronautical was established shortly after.

Edward knew technology paved the way to the betterment of humanity. He was convinced that the power of flight was going to help others in countless of ways. He also knew that the Armstrong influence would reach the military-industrial complex.

A detailed plan of action was set into motion when he got invited to give his presentation for a second time at Central Command. Just as the Armstrong patriarch predicted, the entire board approved of his inventions. The military would have their contract but General Mustang was to become the liaison between parties. Mustang’s first assignment was to lobby for peace between Amestris and Milos, which he successfully conducted.

The construction of the first airplane prototype began the day after Führer Grumman signed a peace treaty with the President of the Milotian Republic.

The military funding came close to the eight-digit figure. Edward’s share was forty percent, making him immensely wealthy overnight.

Edward started “giving back eleven” by donating three-fourths of his fortune to various charities, including Julia’s Children, the children’s foundation Julia Crichton established a couple of months after what became known as the Great Riot of ‘26. His acts of kindness didn't stop there. A & E Aerodynamics began a special program that helped military veterans and their spouses by employing them in the newly established factory.

With the help of Julia, Edward was able to set up an organization dedicated to bringing food and other vital necessities to remote places, using aircraft as the main means of transportation.

His philanthropy became well known across Central, and his earlier fame as the Hero of the People spread like wildfire.

Edward couldn't deny that he found some peace (even redemption) in helping others. He was satisfied with his current life but the mistakes he'd made in the past would forever haunt him. “Returning eleven” had touched the lives of countless people, but no matter what he did, he would never be able to “return eleven” to the person who deserved it the most: his brother.

Alphonse got out of the car first. He closed the door then went around the front of the car. He stopped close to the porch and turned to Edward when he made no effort to get out of the car.

“We need to talk and I prefer we don't do it out here,” he said rather coldly.

Edward simply stared back at him.

Alphonse swallowed back a growl. “Ed—”

Edward swallowed back the wave of foreboding that arose from the pit of his stomach. Alphonse looked like he was about to drag him out of the car by the hair. Maybe he should.

Instead of getting out of the car, Edward turned his attention to the house towering behind his brother. The wooden structure wasn't an exact replica of their old house but it came close. And he didn't like it one bit.

Edward gave out a petulant sigh. “You know I hate this place.”

Alphonse scowled. “This is not our parent’s house.”

Edward noticed that Alphonse was barely holding his control in check. Winry being sick or hurt was out of the question; he knew about the affair.

 _And he brought me here to settle things,_ he thought ruefully.

Edward got out of the car.

Alphonse, more than anyone else, had the right to pass judgment on him. But his brother was as stubborn as a bull, and he would not go on the offensive unless provoked. Edward planned to fix that.

Edward took out his pocket watch—which he had moved to his pant pocket prior to getting inside Alphonse’s car—and flipped it open.

“Al, I need to catch the five o’clock train. Whatever it is you needed to tell me you can do it back at your house.” He said while pretending grave interest in reading the time.

Alphonse balled his hands into fists. “I don't want Van listening.”

Edward stilled.

“So you know,” he said as he fixed his eyes on his younger brother.

Alphonse’s eyes narrowed to contemptuous slits. “Yes, Edward, I know.”

An intense silence hung between them.

Edward’s pocket watch kept ticking strongly in his clenched hand.

Alphonse kept standing in the same spot, with his arms over his chest and glaring back at Edward.

It became painfully obvious to Edward that Alphonse wasn't going to respond any provocation.

Edward slipped the watch in his pant pocket. “When did she tell you?”

For a moment, Alphonse’s eyes turned distant, as if recalling some troubled memory.

“I found it on my own,” he went on to say in a gruff voice.

 _Of course._ A sardonic smile spread across Edward’s face.

“What gave you the right to sleep with her?” The accusation rumbled out of Alphonse’s mouth like a roar.

Edward’s smile faded.

“Why did you have to get in our way?” Alphonse pressed on.

Edward didn't have the courage to answer those questions. He cast his eyes down in a desperate attempt to avoid his brother’s scrutiny.

Alphonse let out a sharp, angry sigh. “Dammit, Edward!” He bellowed, his control barely hanging on by a thread.

Edward winced but kept his mouth shut and his gaze glued to the ground. He much preferred a solid punch in the face than to admit the truth.

Alphonse let out a frustrated sigh.

“Look at me when I'm talking to you,” he said in a calmer voice, effectively pulling in the reigns on his temper.

Edward hated his brother at that moment. Why couldn't he give him a good thrashing and be done with it?

Sighing, he did as Alphonse asked of him. He looked up, and held his brother’s stare, urging him to continue.

The sun was starting to itch but Alphonse ignored it. “Why did you do it?” He asked, continuing his line of questioning.

A fat drop of sweat rolled down one side of Edward’s face. Alphonse couldn't tell if his brother was feeling hot or just plain nervous. Regardless, he kept staring him down, patiently waiting to hear what he already knew.

Edward sucked in a sharp breath. “Because I love her,” he finally admitted as his eyes locked with Alphonse's.

Alphonse sighed, and his eyes closed. Every bit of his rage was evident in his bunched muscles and angry expression.

Edward shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

Alphonse snapped his eyes open and let loose a torrent of angry words.

“Then you should've opened your mouth the day I told you I was planning on marrying her!”

The outburst left Alphonse scowling and Edward stunned as they stared at one another.

“I believed you when you said you were over Winry,” Alphonse continued. “You lied to my face!” A faraway, sorrowful look flashed across his eyes. “We were supposed to tell each other everything…why couldn't you trust me?”

Edward would've preferred to be beaten black and blue than to watch Alphonse fall to pieces. He now understood why Winry wanted to keep secrecy from the beginning. He opened his mouth and closed it again thinking that no excuse could ever make up for the damage he'd inflicted upon his beloved brother.

“Goddamit, Edward, answer the fucking question!”

Edward’s jaw sagged and he stared wide-eyed at his brother.

Alphonse’s raging words was what he needed to regain some perspective. He fixed his eyes on his brother and carefully studied his surly expression. Alphonse needed to make sense of what happened, so why couldn't he put his mind at ease? Wasn't he the one who'd pointed fingers at Winry for wanting to keep Alphonse in the dark? Edward chuckled at his own hypocrisy.

“Does it matter?” He said, pausing a moment to gather his thoughts. “Winry chose right the right man.”

“You know damn well she didn't,” Alphonse snapped back.

Edward’s eyes widened a fraction, then narrowed.

“She told me she'd made a mistake to my fucking face!” He hissed, the memory of that cruel moment still made his heart constrict painfully in his chest.

A breeze swept across the area, rustling the leaves of the nearby tree. The white noise was the only thing keeping the surroundings from falling into an awkward silence.

Alphonse kept to himself, wondering how he should proceed. A part of him wanted to settle things with Edward in a peaceful manner but the other part—

“Yes, I know.”

A look of high satisfaction filled his eyes as he watched Edward’s face turn livid. Alphonse was well aware he was being spiteful but he was too emotionally taxed to care.

Edward recovered quickly from the cheap shot. Squaring off his shoulders and baring teeth, he snapped, “Then why the fuck are we having this conversation?”

Alphonse shot him a smug glower.

Bad choice.

An insolent smile curled the corners of Edward’s mouth.

“I hope you weren't thinking that I was going to beg for forgiveness because I'm telling you right now, it ain't happening.”

He too can be petty and callous.

“Did you think I was sorry for what happened between me and Winry?” He snorted haughtily. “And you wanna know something else? I would have her all over again if she let me—”

“Shut up!”

Alphonse’s thunderous roar made Edward go quiet.

Relief washed over Edward when Alphonse launched himself at him and grabbed him by his shirt.

“Did you forget I learned how to read a person’s chi?” Alphonse snarled to Edward’s face before shoving him away.

Edward stumbled backward, his eyes wide in surprise.

His brother…his brother never needed to beat the truth out of him. All he had to do was to tap into his energy to get the fucking answer.

 _All this time—_ Edward’s shoulders tightened, and his jaw tensed; Alphonse was played him like a fiddle.

He shook his head. “No. Don't do that…don't use that crap on me…”

Alphonse looked away. Once again he brought shame to Master Bao by misusing the gift of energy reading.

Silence stretched between them for several minutes, until Alphonse broke the unnerving spell.

“You're hurting, Ed, and I'm hurting just as much.” He said, choosing his words carefully. The energy flaring off his brother was so unstable it practically crackled.

He’d promised himself that he wasn't going to settle things between them with a fistfight. He almost ruined it by acting on sheer impulse.

“Ed…” Alphonse waited for his brother to look at him in the eyes. “You're hurting because I took Winry from you, and I—” He paused to swallow at the emotion that began burning in his throat. “I'm hurting because you took my family from me—”

“Al, have you gone insane? I didn't steal your family.” Edward interrupted. He even scrubbed a hand over his face, trying not to scream in frustration.

Alphonse gave a sharp, bitter laugh in response.

“Ten years ago, I had Master Bao run a battery of tests to determine if I was sterile.”

That comment caught Edward’s full attention. He stared, unblinking, at his brother.

Alphonse dug his hand into his pant pocket and took out the envelope containing Bao’s letter.

“Here…” He handed Edward the beaten envelope.

Edward hesitated about taking the letter, just like Winry had done before him.

A cold dread gripped Edward’s stomach the moment the envelope exchanged hands, a sentiment that grew worse once he took the paper out of the envelope. Edward swallowed and did so again, but nothing seemed to relieve the dry, parched feeling in his throat.

He silently began counting back nine calendar months starting from Van’s birthday as he unfolded the letter; his face drained of all color. He looked at Alphonse, whose expression urged him to read the letter.

Drawing a deep, shuddering breath, Edward took a look at the test results.

“I don't know if Truth thought your alchemy wasn't enough payment for taking me out of the Gate,” Alphonse began but paused, he looked down. “Maybe my emaciated body suffered irreparable damage…”

He raised his eyes to look at his brother. What he encountered made his breath catch, and his chest tighten.

Tears streamed down Edward’s face.

Alphonse let out a shuddering sob but swallowed back his own tears. Remembering his duty, he said, “Van is your son, Ed.”

For several seconds Edward couldn’t speak, he couldn’t breathe.

“Winry—” He managed to get out, “Did she—?”

Alphonse shook his head.

“She didn't know. She didn't even know that I had those tests done in the first place. She was pretty devastated when she found out.”

The truth hit Edward with such brutal force that he dropped to his knees.

“What I have done?” He muttered, staring blankly into the distance, letting the letter slide off the palm of his hand.

His stomach roiled and his heart clenched painfully in his chest just thinking about all those moments he’d wished he could have his brother’s life.

After a torturous moment of pure self-loathing, Edward raised his eyes to his brother.

“How can you ever forgive me?” He said in a croaked whisper.

Alphonse’s mouth twisted into a deep frown. “To be honest, I don't know if I can.”

Edward’s expression fell into clear devastation.

Alphonse had to peel his eyes away. He'd never been this merciless towards his brother, and it broke his heart.

A long silence divided them.

The wind picked up again. The cool air against the hot skin and damp clothes helped alleviate the physical discomfort caused by the unrelenting sun.

Alphonse cast his eyes upon his brother who had been reduced to a pitiful heap of misery. Guilt began creeping up in his heart.

After a long period of contemplative silence, a rueful smile spread across his face. Try as he might, he would never be able to hold a grudge against his brother.

He let out a weary sigh. “Ed, what I think or feel isn't important. What's important is to start making things right.”

Edward looked up, the sun was now shining behind his brother, giving him an angelic appearance. The irony of the moment was so exquisite that he would've laughed if he wasn't feeling so distraught.

Alphonse extended him a hand, then said, “Let's go. It's time for you get to know your son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, how about that? For those who've read the original, the rewrite is pretty much a new chapter. I've been molding the story so I can continue it in the companion piece, which by the way will be set around 9-10 months after the events in chapter 18. 
> 
> Did you expect the encounter to end like it did? 
> 
> I'll be editing chapter 18 ASAP. I hope that I can have it ready by the end of this month (posting around March 3rd).
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	18. EIGHTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward meets Van; talks with Winry. Alphonse makes a life-changing decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! I thought I wasn't going to make this extended deadline. I've-been-swamped-with-work!!! Anyway, here's the last chapter of this bowl of sad soup aka Get Wrecked, Part 2. Only the Epilogue and a Preview of the companion story are left. I plan to do a double post the next time I post. It might take me a few weeks to do this (maybe, depends on workload). Expect something in April.
> 
> One more thing, have your tissues ready. This rewritten version is more intense than the original.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the heartbreak!

A dirt plume rose in the distance. Winry's heart thumped hard against her chest. The trail started from the Alkahestry School. 

Winry breathed in a shuddering breath. Time had come to face Edward. She pretended the fluttering in her stomach had to do with anxiety but her heart wouldn't let her fool herself.

The things that happened a lifetime ago and decisions that were made. Most of them wrong; all of them her fault. As Granny used to say, _“You made your bed, now lie in it.”_ Good thing she was not around to see how far granddaughter had fallen from grace.

Van’s footsteps rolled downstairs like a summer thunderstorm rolls across the pastures. Winry barely made out the blur that ran past the living room and straight to the front door.

“Mom! C’mon—getup! Dad and Uncle Ed are here!”

 _Uncle Ed._ The thought made Winry’s stomach churn with both guilt and remorse.

Van slammed open the door and practically skipped the porch altogether as he exited the house. He quickly forgot about her. 

_It’s better this way,_ Winry supposed. She much preferred to hoard as many minutes as she could. 

* * *

Edward saw Van running towards them.

“I can't do this,” he shuddered, feeling a wave of panic rising up from his chest like a tidal wave. A part of him wished he'd never taken this trip to Resembool.

Alphonse lay a hand on his shoulder. “Yes you can,” he said firmly. 

Edward offered him a small nod of acknowledgment. 

He couldn't help but notice the profound sadness in his brother’s expression, sadness he’d caused with his selfish decisions.

“Dad!”

Both of them looked forward.

Alphonse felt Edward’s shoulder bunching up. He shot a glance at his brother and saw him staring at Van like he was some sort of odd creature. He pulled in a hard breath and opened the door. Before getting out the car, he made sure his face beamed a wide smile.

Van practically attacked Alphonse with a hug. He then stepped to the side and looked inside the car.

“Dad why is Uncle Ed still inside the car?” Van said as he looked up at Alphonse.

His expression changed to one of worry when Alphonse didn't answer.

“Dad?” His brow scrunched up thinking that he’d said something wrong.

Alphonse snapped out of his trance and looked at Van. He offered him another smile as he ruffled the boy’s hair then he turned his attention to his brother.

“Edward!” He called out in a harsh whisper.

The sudden outburst made Van nervous. His concerned eyes searched Alphonse’s, trying to figure out what was going on. But Alphonse hid the answer well; Van shrugged his shoulders and gave up. 

Wanting to be helpful, he went to the back of the car and popped the trunk open.

“There's only a tiny suitcase here!” Van cried out in disbelief. 

“The luggage got lost at East City,” Edward said as he got out of the car.

He visibly stiffened when Van rushed to his side. 

But Van stopped midway and started to giggle.

“You look like Grandpa,” he said as a grin spread across his face.

The candid comment threw Edward off balance. For a few blessed seconds, he forgot the terrible mess he had gotten everyone into. 

Alphonse cleared his throat loudly. 

Edward blinked back into awareness. He turned his gaze to his brother whose expression screamed: “keep it together”. 

Acknowledging the silent command, Edward turned to Van, and after forcing a grin on his face, he said, “I guess I do.” 

His answer pleased Van, Edward could see it in his gleeful eyes. 

“Your hair is shorter now—not as short as dad’s though,” Van said, his golden eyes shooting straight up and connecting with those of a similar hue. “I've seen pictures of you with really long hair,” he added then leaned closer to Edward as if confiding a great secret. “It looked so badass,” he whispered, grinning. But his grin transformed into a pout, as he considered his own words. He leaned back and crossed his arms in front of his chest like a petulant toddler. “I want to have long hair but mom won't let me,” he grumbled under his breath.

Van’s mannerisms reminded Edward of himself at that age. It was one of those things he would've noticed immediately if he'd been involved in the boy's life. 

His throat cinched and his eyes began to moisten.

Van raised a questioning eyebrow. “Are you crying?”

Sensing the beginnings of a potential disaster, Alphonse stepped into their conversation. “He's just excited to see you,” he chimed in, answering the question for his brother. He glanced at Edward’s for a second, the pain etched in his eyes was heartbreaking; Alphonse’s eyes began to burn. 

Van looked from Alphonse to Edward and back to Alphonse. “O—kay,” he said, kind of understanding that his father and uncle had a special bond with each other. Nonetheless, he pointed a finger at Alphonse, and said, “But why are you crying?” 

Alphonse couldn't help but let out a sardonic laugh. “That's because I missed my brother,” he answered as he ruffled the boy’s hair one more time. 

Alphonse couldn't deny that the answer surprised him as much as it surprised Edward. Even with all that's happened, the love he felt for his older brother still beat strong in his heart.

Van swatted Alphonse’s hand away, not out of embarrassment, but because he didn't like the way Alphonse was acting. He scrunched his nose at both of them.

“Weirdos,” he said while crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head.

Alphonse brought the same hand that'd ruffled the boy’s hair to his head and ran it through his short hair. Edward simply looked away in what looked like shame.

Van shrugged his shoulders, chucking their reaction to useless sentimentality. He then turned to Alphonse, and said, “Hey dad, Jake, and his dad are waiting for me to go to the lake.” 

Alphonse was so emotionally wrung out that he forgot Pitt had offered to keep Van busy while he and Winry talked with Edward.

He extended the boy a smile that was more a gesture of relief than fatherly love. “I know. You can go now.”

Van’s eyes sparkled upon hearing those words. 

“Am going to catch the biggest fish!” Van exclaimed as his hands measured the size of the fish he planned to catch. He then set his gaze on Edward. “I hope you like trout, Uncle Ed!” 

Without breaking eye contact, Van took a step backward then spun around and took off. “Bye!” He shouted as he ran down the hill.

Edward and Alphonse fell into silence while they watched the boy reach the main road. 

They were both so immersed in their own thoughts that they didn't hear the front door opening, and in Alphonse’s case, feel Winry’s chi approaching.

Winry fisted the fabric of her shirt. The current scene reminded her of the time the brothers arrived from Central a few months the after the Promised Day. At the time, both Edward and Alphonse were being greeted by Den. Their faces lighted up once they noticed her presence on that same spot she was standing. A faint smile appeared on her face as a whirlwind of emotions swept through her heart. Oh, how she wished the scene unraveling before her eyes could match the happy memories of the past…

Alphonse was the first to turn around, most likely he sensed her presence. 

Edward’s bunched shoulders spoke volumes about his feelings. He hesitated a bit but finally turned around.

Winry couldn't put a stop to the fluttering spreading throughout her chest. She'd seen Edward in photos he sends Alphonse, she's even seen his face in newspapers that Alphonse collects from Central, but seeing Edward in person after almost a decade was…was…

Edward’s golden eyes flickered brightly with emotion. “Winry…” 

Winry tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Hi, Ed,” she said with a timid smile.

Everything stilled, their shaky breaths barely disrupting the silence of the moment suspended in time. 

Alphonse cleared his throat without warning; Edward and Winry tore their eyes away from each other.

“I need to take care of some things,” he said with a forced smile, then walked past them and entered the house.

Winry cast her gaze down while Edward swallowed dry. 

For a few tense seconds, nothing was said between them.

“I'm going inside,” Winry finally announced, and without looking at Edward, she turned around and went inside.

Edward’s gaze turned distant. Too many things had happened to give him any peace of mind: Alphonse found out about the affair, he found out that Van was his son, and now it was Winry’s turn to talk with him. He forced himself to breathe slowly, forced his mind to settle. Eventually, he managed to still his mind and his emotions. 

He went to the car to retrieve his suitcase, and after locking the car, he entered the yellow house but not before taking another calming breath. Edward walked by the wall riddled with memories of a past that time had turned foreign. 

He found Winry in the living room standing in front of the window. Her posture was tense, like a bow that had been pulled all the way back. 

He gently deposited the suitcase on the floor then stepped into the room. 

Each step taken felt heavier than the one before as if someone was deliberately weighing him down. Edward’s hesitation was justifiable, after all, it was in that same living room where two fools spun a tragic tale of lies and deceit. Today that hapless story was coming to an end.

Edward cleared his throat to announce his presence.

Even though her shoulders offered a telltale jerk of her emotional state, Winry didn't turn around, didn't even acknowledge Edward.

Edward cleared his throat again. “Winry—” He began, but Winry quickly cut off the rest of his words.

"Van's a great kid," she said, still facing the window.

A poignant smile spread slowly across Edward’s face, remembering his brief interaction with Van. “He's a happy kid,” he said as his thoughts returned to the present.

Edward turned his attention to Winry and noticed that she had relaxed considerably. If he had to guess, he would say that she was smiling.

“Yes, he is.” The awkward tension in the room began dissipating with her response. 

Winry turned around and their gazes locked.

Edward’s breath caught in his throat; his stomach dipped. 

The bright background framed Winry perfectly. She looked stunning even more so than when they met by the porch. His heart thumped hard against his ribs. Even with all the grief and heartbreak that existed between them, his feelings for Winry hadn't dwindled in the least. 

Edward cut a glance to his left, then dropped his gaze to his feet knowing that he shouldn’t look at her like that.

Neither spoke for several beats.

Finally, Edward looked at her, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Van sure loves Al.” 

Winry felt a sudden stab of guilt as she watched Edward sink into deep sorrow.

“Did Al talk to you about Van?” She asked wanting to make sure that everything was going according to plan. Days before Edward’s arrival, she and Alphonse had devised a plan to introduce him to Van, not as his uncle, but as his father.

Edward’s face went blank for a second then he blinked slowly returning back to the moment, staring intently at Winry.

“He did.” 

Winry nodded absently, her gaze cast downward. “Part of me knew you were his father,” she admitted. “I just”—she sucked in a breath—“I just didn't want to accept it.” She then met and held Edward’s gaze, and added, “It’s because of you that I got the chance of becoming a mother. Thank you.”

Her words made him feel somewhat resentful. Edward couldn't help but imagine what would've happened if they never had that horrible conversation the morning after their lovemaking. If they would've been honest from the beginning, Alphonse would've known what happened between them. And Van—

“You know I would've been there for you.” Edward spat, unable to contain his hurt any longer.

A wave of remorse swept through her; she had been such a fool. 

Winry moved closer to Edward and took his right hand in hers. She lifted her brows slightly, surprised that his palm had become as rough as the other. Winry let the thought drift away. 

As her gaze connected once again Edward’s, she said, “I know, and I'm sorry.” Her free hand joined the other, gently squeezing Edward’s hand. “I'm sorry that I kept you from your son.” Her throat cinched around a breath. “I've been so horrible to you—” 

Guilt and remorse hit Winry like waves crashing against a jetty. She squeezed Edward’s hand hard as hiccuping sobs quaked through her body.

The parallels between past and present rendered Edward speechless. And just like in the past, he wrapped his arms around Winry and pulled her flush against him.

“Winry, I know you didn't act out of malice,” he whispered to her ear. “Please don't cry,” he added, but Winry did the exact opposite.

Edward held her tighter. 

“Don't cry…” He stroked her hair so tenderly. _You were only supposed to cry tears of happiness…_

Edward closed his eyes and held Winry until the very last tear was gone.

He stroked Winry’s hair one more time then pulled back. They still needed to discuss the matter of their son.

“Winry, about Van—” He began, but Winry spoke over him.

“Al and I already decided to tell Van the truth about you,” she said as she tried to dry her face with the back of her hands.

Edward fetched a handkerchief from his pant pocket and gently wiped a stray tear from her soft cheek.

“I don't think it's a good idea,” he said as he handed the handkerchief to Winry. “I might be Van’s biological father but I'm not _his father_ , Win, Al is.” His brows drew together in a sorrowful expression. “I don't want to take that away from him especially when it's so obvious that they love each other.” 

“You're his father, Ed.” Winry lowered the handkerchief; Edward caught a glimpse of worry in her eyes. “You have a right to be involved in his life—”

“I wouldn't even know how to begin being one!” Edward interrupted. “I'll probably end up fucking up everything like my old man,” he added in a tone that oozed self-loathing. 

Winry shook her head. “You're not Hohenheim.” 

“How the hell would you know?” Edward bellowed. 

He stared at a wide-eyed Winry as he regained his control. 

Mouth set in a grim line, Winry averted her gaze to the coffee table. “You're right,” she said as she brought her gaze back to his. “I don't know if you're going to turn out just like your dad, but no one will know this until you try.”

Edward frowned. “People will talk, and they won't be kind.”

Winry crossed her arms over her chest, anger darkening her face. “Let them talk, I don't care.” 

Her intent expression told Edward that she had been preparing herself to weather the scandal. 

Winry sighed, then added, “I’m done making mistakes.”

Edward studied her face. Nodding once, he said, “I understand.” 

Winry could tell Edward still had his doubts about telling Van the truth. She gathered his hands in hers and offered him a hopeful smile. “You, me and Al; together. One step at a time.” “One step at a time…” Alphonse murmured ruefully as Winry's words moved through his mind.

He pushed away from the wall and returned upstairs. There was still some more things he needed to finish before the next morning rolled in. 

* * *

Alphonse turned the doorknob slowly so there wouldn't be any loud sounds as the spindle rotated.

Van was a heavy sleeper and wouldn't wake up even if someone yelled bloody murder to his ear but tonight Alphonse took extra measures to make sure the boy didn't awaken. 

He pussyfooted to the bed for the same reason. 

Van was too tangled up in the bedsheets for Alphonse to cover him properly. He did, however, pull down his pajama shirt so Van’s belly wouldn't be exposed. Alphonse did this gently, just like he used to do for Edward during those sleepless nights when his soul was trapped in the armor. His heart stung.

Summertime was brutal in Resembool, but it was late at night, and the dew had time to cool down the ground. 

Alphonse brushed away some strands stuck to Van’s forehead. The boy moved as he combed the rest of his hair; Alphonse retracted his hand immediately. He looked at his hand as it curled into a fist.

“My little man…” He said, barely raising his voice above a whisper.

He hadn't called Van by that name in years. A smiled spread across his face remembering how his “little man” used to light up in utter delight whenever he heard those two words. 

His throat constricted; he gulped. 

After inhaling a sharp breath, Alphonse set a determined gaze on Van, then whispered, “I’m going on a trip and won't be back for a very long time so I need you to be strong for me.” He paused and swallowed deeply. “You'll probably going to hate me for leaving and I hope you do—” He couldn't finish his words.

Alphonse blinked away the tears that pricked his eyelids. Van remained fast asleep but he still looked away, feeling ashamed of himself. A few minutes passed by before he was able to regain his control. He turned to Van and sighed. There were a few more things he needed to say before saying goodbye. 

“Promise me that you'll always love your mom and that you'll give Ed an opportunity”—he chuckled sadly—“your dad is a good guy, a bit moody and pig-headed, but good nonetheless.” 

Van moaned and turned to his side. His back now faced Alphonse.

Swallowing hard Alphonse placed a hand on top of Van’s head. He drew in a shaky breath, then said, “I love you”—he gulped—”and you will always be my son.”

His vision blurred with thick tears, tears he couldn't hold back anymore. He let them spill down his face as he cried softly. When he was done, he bent over the smaller form and gave Van a kiss on his cheek. He the left his side and closed the door without making much noise.

Once he was back in the hallway, Alphonse dried his face with the back of his hand, and after letting out a shuddering breath, he pussyfooted across the hallway. He tried to make as little noise as possible when he opened the door to the study room.

Alphonse went around the desk and sat down on the chair, and took out a notepad from the top-right drawer. He picked up a pen and began writing on the paper. After he was done, he pushed the chair back and stood up. 

Alphonse went to the shelf where he kept his most treasured family pictures and picked one out from the bunch—his favorite one—the one that had been taken on a trip to Central a few years back. Van had been five at the time, and he and Winry were at the pinnacle of their marriage. His lips pressed into a hard line and his brows scrunched together in a frown. His marriage and his family life had been like that trip, joyful and with a short ending.

Alphonse couldn't find it in him to put the picture frame back in its place so he brought it with him to the bags he'd finished packing shortly after listening to Winry’s and Edward’s conversation in the living room. After making sure that the picture frame fits in his duffel bag, he zipped it up and hung it on his right shoulder. He then bent over to pick up his large suitcase, the one he uses for long trips.

Alphonse walked to the door. “It's for the best,” he reminded himself before turning the doorknob. 

He made it past the bedrooms and down the stairs in relative silence. The front door barely creaked when he locked it behind him. 

* * *

Edward opened his eyes, blinking lazily as he took a look around the room. It felt strange to be back in the room that bear witness to his rise and fall from grace.

His eyes went to the spot where he made love to Winry many moons ago. The bittersweet memory managed to bring a smile to his face. He put a stop to his train of thought, out of respect for Alphonse, who was sleeping next to Winry just two rooms further down the hall. 

Sighing, his thoughts took a new direction, and he began to process the events of the last twenty-four hours. He turned to face the ceiling and reminded himself, as he placed his arm over his forehead, that Winry wasn't his. But—

 _”You, me and Al; together.”_

The words surged to the front of his mind as if they were being hauled by rushing water. 

Edward rolled back to his side again and sighed. Seconds later, he sat up and brought his automail leg closer to his chest, resting his chin on the cold metal. 

What did Winry mean by “together”? 

No matter how many times the revolved the question in his mind, he kept drawing blanks. 

_“Together” could mean many things,_ Edward thought.

It was clear that both Alphonse and Winry wanted him to be involved in his son’s life, but—

Everything took a strange turn after talking to Winry. 

Alphonse didn't seem to mind that Winry was paying him too much attention. In a way, he was encouraging the exchange! 

“What the fuck was Al thinking?” He muttered, his brow dropping low over his eyes. His brother with his ability to read chi must’ve picked up on his feeling for Winry. 

Edward’s eyes widened and his spine straightened as an alarming thought popped into his head.

Was Alphonse going to turn a blind eye if he ever made even the smallest advance towards Winry? 

Edward rubbed a hand down his face. “No, that's asinine…” 

Yet the evidence didn't point to the contrary.

Edward let out a shuddering breath as he raked both hands through his thick mane. He knew in his heart that he wasn't thinking straight. 

* * *

Fully refreshed and ready to tackle another emotionally-charged day, Edward headed downstairs. The idea that his brother might be agreeing to a type of relationship that was going to be even more scandalous than what they already had going on stuck to his mind like a shadow. He pushed that ridiculous notion out of his head. He might be starving for love, and he might be desperate to feel like he belonged somewhere, and much as he wanted to have a family, to have Winry back in his life, there was no way he was going to let his beloved brother do something so stupid. There was no equivalency in _that_ exchange.

Complete silence was the first thing Edward noticed when he reached the first floor. He shrugged. With what had transpired the day before it wasn't surprising that everyone was still in the bedrooms sleeping. He too was emotionally wrung out, he just couldn't stay in bed any longer. 

Since he was already up, he decided to make breakfast for everyone. 

It was when he reached the kitchen that he heard faint sobbing. His heart filled with worry. 

He found Winry sitting by the breakfast nook. Her face rested on her folded arms, her back shook with each sob she let out. 

The fact that Alphonse wasn't in the kitchen consoling Winry turned Edward’s stomach to ice.

“What's the matter?” He said and immediately regretted his dumb approach.

Winry looked up. The spidery veins in her eyes were visible, even at a distance. Fresh and dry tears—harbingers of bad news—mapped the contours of her face. He gulped.

He got closer and that's when he noticed a piece of paper crumpled in one of Winry's hands. 

Winry saw him staring at the paper so she slid it his way.

Edward hesitated a bit but ended picking up the beaten paper. He drew out a chair and sat down. Alphonse’s neat cursive was inked on the paper. 

He drew in a sharp breath. 

Bracing for the worst, he began reading his brother’s letter.

_Dearest Winry,_

_I know this isn't the best way to do this but it is the best course of action I could take. You see, I couldn't bring myself to tell you how I feel face-to-face. Yes, I'm a coward._

_Winry, thank you for all the years we've spent together, they've been some of the happiest years of my life. Your devotion as a wife had known no limits, you gave everything and did everything you deemed right to make our marriage worked. I know you love me, Winry, but I also know you're not in love with me. I'm not trying to be petty. I've thought about this long and hard for quite some time before reaching this conclusion. Your love for me grew over the years but it never surpassed the love you had for Edward if it had, then you wouldn't have slept with him._

_Again, I’m not being spiteful, though it pains me to admit that I'm quite jealous. I'm jealous because I wanted all of your love. Please believe me when I say that I've forgiven you for cheating on me. And I also have forgiven my brother._

_Speaking of forgiveness, I am grateful that you've forgiven me for the way I've treated you lately…and I hope you have it in your heart the disposition to do so one more time. I overheard your conversation with Ed. I know I promised you that I was going to help introduce Ed to Van as his real father, but I can't do it. Sharing you and Van with Edward seemed like a sound idea at the time, but it truly isn't. The Amestrian society is quite conservative, and all of us living together under one roof, even if everything is kept innocent, would be seen as unscrupulous. The townspeople would condemn us all. I want Van to grow up in a stable home (as stable as it can get under this hard circumstances), just like we talked about the day he was born. And I know Ed would want the same for him._

_This brings me to the most important part of this letter._

_I decided to take it upon myself to act on behalf of all of us. Winry, I am setting you free. Hate me all you want, but you know in your heart that this is the right decision. Me wanting a divorce doesn't mean that I don't love you or Van, it's quite the contrary. I don't think I'll ever the be same without you both in my life as wife and son. Don't worry, I'll manage. I'll stand up and I'll keep moving forward. I have two good legs to do so._

_Winry, promise me, for Van’s sake, that you and Ed will put all your differences aside. Please be the family that you were always meant to be._

_I'll be sending the divorce papers from Central by courier in the next few days. Don't ever think that this decision was an easy one, Winry._

_I'm eternally grateful for all the years that I got to spent with you and Van._

_Always yours,_

_Alphonse_

“Damn it, Al…” Edward ground out as he abandoned the letter on the table.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a low groan. 

_What in the actual fuck just happened?_ Alphonse had been all smiles the day before! 

_He was setting us up._

His eyebrows huddled together, feeling like a fool for not recognizing his brother’s actual intentions. _And here I thought that he wanted a special arrangement between the three of us._ Edward shuddered in self-disgust. 

“Al left that letter on the nightstand.”

Blinking slowly, Edward turned to Winry just as she burst into tears.

“I lost him…I drove him to this…” She wailed.

Edward winced knowing it was him who ruined his brother’s happiness; ruined them all. “It’s not your fault, Winry,” he mumbled.

Winry’s eyes widened in shock before narrowing into scornful slits.

“Let me guess, this is all your fault?” She sneered with loathing contempt. Her upper lip curled back into a snarl. “How convenient—” She spat but stopped herself. She wasn't thinking clearly and she didn't want to make the situation worst than it already was.

Stunned by the accusation, Edward cast down his eyes to Alphonse’s letter. After a long tortured moment, he turned to Winry who shifted from loud wailing to quiet sobbing after her outburst. 

“What happens now?” He simply asked.

Winry held his glum gaze, then in a cold tone, she said in a hoarse whisper, “I don't know.” Shaking and holding back the gulping sobs that kept leaping up her throat, she managed to add, “I guess time will tell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... So how what it? 
> 
> I hope you saw THAT coming.
> 
> For everyone who's new to my stories, did you expected a happy ending? I am quite brutal with my stories. Don't fret, the Epilogue hasn't been published yet. BTW in the original, the Epilogue was set around a year after the events in chapter 18. The new Epilogue will be set three years after the events in chapter 18. Why? Because of the companion piece. I wonder, all of you re-reading the story. Will you be able to recognize the subtle foreshadowing?
> 
> One more thing, and this message is for people re-reading the story. Chapter 18 is quite different than what you remembered it, right? I decided to weave in the original ending with the alternate ending (which is the one I chose when I first posted Coveted). Before I wrote chapter 18, I spoke with a person over at FF.net about my intentions on how to end the story. She freaked out, and then so did I. Well, I blame the original idea on severe sleep depravation and hormones, (they were put of whack--won't say publicly why). For the ending, I just figured that they all should just live together, that was it. I meant nothing more than that. When the reader over at FF.net pointed that this was open to any type of interpretation, I froze. I still stand behind that I meant nothing unscrupulous though her suggestion got me thinking... People this is how sin is born. LOL Just kidding.
> 
> I hope you like the Epilogue, I promise I will not make you cry. Can't say the same about the Preview of the companion piece.
> 
> Later!


	19. EPILOGUE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After much heartache and resentment, Edward, Winry, Alphonse and Van find happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This epilogue is set around three years after the events of Coveted, chapter 18, and two years after Committed, the companion piece for Coveted.

Winry gently unfolded the fan Alphonse got her from his latest trip to Xing.

The handle had been carved from an ivory tusk of an elephant who had passed away from old age. Alphonse assured her that no harm came to the animal. In the Far East, majestic animals such as elephants were honored by preserving their body parts upon their passing.

Winry opened the fan with a quick flick of her wrist. She chased the heat away, ignoring the beautiful artwork hand-painted on the silk fabric.

Alphonse smiled.

His eyes settled on the art, which at the moment looked like a mess of bright colors from Winry’s vigorous fanning.

The fan had been a custom job. It depicted the story of Tianye Fang, a lesser known heroine in the Fang Dynasty. Tianye, as Alphonse found out while researching the history of the Sage of the West, had been a noble woman whose high sense of loyalty, coupled with stubbornness, brought misfortune upon her. Tianye suffered greatly for the sins she supposedly had committed against the emperor of the time. Her tenacity in the face of adversity was what made her famous across the region. Over the course of various centuries, Tianye’s story became a source of inspiration to many, especially for those who needed the strength to rise up after falling from grace.

“What’s so funny?” Winry asked, raising a fine eyebrow.

Alphonse put up both his hands up in a surrender. “Nothing, I swear!” Winry still smacked him on the back of his head.

While rubbing the sore spot, Alphonse looked forward, settling his gaze on Van and Edward, who were having a vivid discussion about how to assemble the kite brought from Xing.

Turning to Winry, he said, “Thank you for letting me take Van with me to Xing.”

“Don't have to thank me, Al. You know Van’s will always be your son.”

Winry’s words and the sparkle in her sky blue eyes made Alphonse blush.

“I guess he is,” he grinned.

But his smile faded when a single thought crossed his mind.

Three summers ago, he'd promised Winry to support her when both Edward and Van knew the truth about their true relationship. Abandoning her—them—had never been part of the plan. His change of heart came at the last moment when his energetic field tuned into Edward’s and Winry’s chi. The synchronization of their energies felt like he was watching a beautiful sunrise. He knew right then he should've never gotten in their way in the first place.

And then there was Van.

Giving him up was the hardest decision he'd ever made in his entire life, harder than going along with Edward’s idea of resurrecting their own mother. He'd wished he could've said a proper goodbye to everyone, especially to the apple of his eye, but he knew that he would've never made it past the front door. One word, even a minuscule tear, would've been enough to convince him to stay. And he couldn't stay.

Knowing how deep the love between Edward and Winry ran, he couldn't find the courage in him to keep splitting them apart. If he'd chosen to stay, he would've bore witness to their love unfolding. It would've been subtle at first, but he was well aware that what was covert would've become overt. Out of pure love for these two fools, he would've allowed himself to be dragged into their affair. The idea of sharing Winry with Edward stirred something in him that scared him, so he fled before their actions could hurt Van.

“How did you find, Ed’s shoulder?” Winry asked, her words brought Alphonse back to the present.

Alphonse controlled his visceral reaction so he wouldn't upset her. He was more than used to treating all sorts of body injuries but this particular patient wasn't a stranger, it was his own brother.

Without him noticing, his brows huddled together in worry. Edward losing his right arm a second time was as tragic as it was ironic.

“The flesh around the port was inflamed…more than I expected, to be honest,” he answered.

Winry frowned. “I told him to take it easy.”

Alphonse nodded absently. Just as Winry, his mouth curled into a frown, remembering the gore that almost ripped Edward from this world.

“At least he got back on his feet,” he said as he returned to the present moment.

Winry’s expression turned distant. “I don't know how he can do it.”

“Pig-headedness,” Alphonse snickered, trying to make the conversation lighter between them.

Winry shook her head. “Tell me about it…”

Alphonse put a hand on Winry’s knee, the dark gold of his eyes shimmered. “I’m glad that you and Brother are getting along.”

Once again Winry became lost in thought. Resentment, petty fighting, Van’s heartbreak: the months following Alphonse’s departure were insanely tough. She let out a small puff of air. Thankfully, those hard times were a thing of the past.

“How's Julia?” Winry asked, deciding that it was time for a change in subject.

Watching Alphonse blush like a teenage girl, brought about an impish grin to her face.

Alphonse cleared his throat. “She's busy with the kids.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he added, “She would've loved visiting Xing.”

Winry smiled tenderly. Alphonse always dreamt of having a huge family and he found it with Julia and the children of her foundation.

Alphonse who left Amestris for a while joined the military as a State Alchemist upon his return. Roy Mustang, who'd just became the new Führer, placed Alphonse in charge of Table City. The many changes in command were not taken well in Milos and a new revolt began. With the threat of a bloody conflict looming over everyone’s heads, Alphonse joined forces with Julia, just like Edward had done so many years ago. The tragedy was averted; new laws were forged. A relationship between the Amestrian commander and the Milotian senator started. Love blossomed shortly after.

Winry took his hand in hers. “I’m glad for you, Al.”

Her words had come out a little too bubbly for her liking; jealousy was a capricious sentiment.

Alphonse remained silent, contemplating her. The way her ocean eyes smiled told him that he would always occupy a special place deep in her heart, and that made him happy.

“So?” He said, amusement curling the corners of his lips. “When are you and Brother going to tie the knot?”

Winry’s eyes widened briefly before crinkling at corners. “Never.” Heat rushed to her face and she was sure her blush surpassed her ex’s. She let go of his hand.

Alphonse’s words got her thinking. Even though Edward had been living with her for a year now, she'd never considered marrying him. His rehabilitation and Van’s welfare had taken precedence over everything else, besides—

“You know how I feel about getting married again.” The words slipped out of her mouth. Her eyes rounded with surprise, and she chuckled nervously, realizing her faux pas.

After clearing her throat, Winry added, “If we get married, we take away everyone’s main source of entertainment.”

“That's true,” Alphonse chuckled.

He crossed his arms over his chest, his attention shifting to Edward and Van. “You should've seen the looks they gave me when Ed picked us up at the train station this morning.” A rueful smile spread across his face. “People probably still think that”—he paused—”you know, ménage-a-trois?”

Winry put both hands over her mouth. “You're serious?”

“Just kidding, Win.” Alphonse corrected before he ended upsetting her.

Winry slowly lowered her hands. “I'm not so sure about that—ow!”

Alphonse’s brows shot upward in worry. “Are you okay?”

Winry nodded, both hands busy with her protruding belly as she tried to calm down her babies.

“I still can't believe you're having twins,” Alphonse said, pride beaming in his expression.

His eyes traveled to her stomach. “Can I?”

“Of course, silly!” Winry answered, chuckling.

As she shifted closer to Alphonse, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.

Standing up was a huge effort in her current state but she did so with surprising ease. Winry walked to the balustrade, her hands curling tightly over the iron rail.

A fight had exploded between Van and Edward, and for what she could make out, it had to do with the installation of the spine of the kite. _Typical._ She sighed.

“Remember how we used to fight over everything?”

Winry’s thoughts returned to Alphonse. She turned around and leaned on the balustrade.

"Yes, I remember.” A smirk made its way to her face. “I remember you beating the snot out of Ed.”

Alphonse cackled, recalling all too well Edward’s hissy fits. His eyes went back to Van and Edward as his thoughts moved closer to the present. He was glad that everyone was finally getting along especially after suffering so much grief and heartbreak following his departure.

Coming fully into the moment, he turned to Winry, and said, “You know, Van told me that he wants you two to get married.”

Winry’s eyes rounded in surprise. “He did?”

Alphonse nodded.

Winry’s brows hiked up her forehead. She settled her gaze on her son and stared at him in quiet contemplation while he worked on the kite with his father. Even though she considered herself forward-thinking, for certain things, she was as old-fashioned as her grandmother. But if her son wanted this—

“First, that knucklehead brother of yours has to propose,” she said, shocking both Alphonse and herself with her response.

Van approached them, spoiling Alphonse's chances to speak on the matter.

“Dad I need you. Ed’s being a jerk again!” He whined.

“’Dad’, not Ed,” Alphonse reprimanded.

Van rolled his eyes. “Yeah-yeah, c'mon. Let's get the kite up in the air already.” He turned around and left just as fast as when he first approached them.

“I'll be right there!” Al shouted. “Winry, I gotta go. I have to make sure they don't end up wringing each other's necks.”

He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before leaving her side.

“Have fun!” Winry shouted as Alphonse jogged to Van and Edward.

From her comfortable spot in the swing chair, Winry watched the interactions between the most important men in her life. They looked happy and carefree, and that in turn made her smile.

Thinking back, their lives had been anything but normal. If she had to compare it to something, it would be a roller coaster. Like the machine, their lives have traveled the ups and downs of human life; the loops along the way had been as frightening as they have been thrilling. It took her years to figure out they would never fit the description of a normal family, but in her eyes, they were more than perfect.

 

Edward handed the kite to Alphonse.

“Ed, I think you should do it tonight.”

Edward cocked an eyebrow. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Alphonse gave him a hint. “She's not going to turn you down.”

Edward sucked in a gasp. His artificial hand dug into his pant pocket, grasping the article always carried in it.

A fond smile spread across his face.

Winry was amazing. Thanks to her genius, he could feel more than just the contours of the small box. Although the new wiring system couldn't fully process fine details, such as the soft velvet texture covering the box, he was more than happy to have some sort of sensation. Losing his natural arm, after all, he and his brother had been through to recover it, had been hard on him.

Edward eased his hold on the box. A crushed box, even worse, a crushed ring, would damper ruin his day.

His excitement was justifiable, he'd been waiting more than twenty years to ask Winry’s hand in marriage.

With the box still in his grasp, he turned to Alphonse. “You sure you're okay with this?”

Even though Alphonse and Winry had been divorced for quite some time, feelings of guilt still plagued him.

His pulse thundered in his ears, just like it did on that fateful morning he decided to meet with his brother at Lolita’s.

Alphonse held his gaze for a few agonizing seconds. He only broke the silence when saw Edward panicking.

“It's not like I'm the one you want to marry.”

Alphonse tried to keep a straight face but Edward’s shocked expression made him break into a fit of laughter.

“Asshole…” Edward spat.

While glaring at his brother, Edward couldn't help but wonder if Alphonse was aware of the gossip regarding the two of them. Though he'd been involved in quite some interesting relationships (the likes Mustang, self-proclaimed ladies’ man, would've been as proud as he would've been alarmed) the mere thought that some people actually believed they both were mixed in a romantic relationship revolted his stomach.

Noticing that Edward was becoming lost in some dark twisted thoughts, Alphonse said, “It's about damn time you two end up together.”

Edward blinked back to awareness. His expression softened and his scowl was quickly replaced with a wolfish grin.

Looking at his brother straight in the eyes, he said, “You know what else is overdue?”

Alphonse raised his eyebrows. “What?”

Savoring the moment, Edward pointed a finger at him. “ _You_ proposing to Julia.”

Just as he expected, Alphonse’s face burned bright, like a firework on a moonless summer night.

“I'm pretty sure Julia’s getting tired of waiting.” Edward followed with a cheeky remark. “She's gonna find herself another man if you keep bumbling like a fool.”

Alphonse frowned. “Takes one to know one.”

Van, who had been quietly listening in on their conversation, groaned in irritation.

Edward and Alphonse turned to look at the boy; he rolled their eyes at them.

Van snatched the kite from the ground and headed out into the open field, stomping away like the moody preteen he'd grown up to be.

Edward and Alphonse looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Edward still had an amused smile on his face even after the laughter had already died out.

It didn't take Alphonse long to recognize that face; Edward had something up his sleeve. He cocked an eyebrow, waiting for his older brother to unleash whatever craziness he’d concocted.

Lo and behold, Edward put a hand on each hip and declared, “Let's do a double wedding. People love double weddings.”

“Wow, now that's an original idea,” Alphonse said while letting out a sarcastic snicker.

His face went from amused to a neutral blank when he saw determination flickering in his brother’s eyes.

“You know I'm right.” Edward grinned.

Though slow at first, Alphonse ended mirroring his brother’s grin.

“Sounds like a plan,” he finally answered, wondering what the townspeople would make of their plan.

“I smell trouble,” Winry said as she waddled to where the two of them were located.

“Winry!” Edward and Alphonse said at the same time. They both rushed to her side, each taking one of her hands in theirs.

“I thought you were tired,” said Edward, while Alphonse added, “You shouldn't be walking so much.”

Winry offered them her most petrifying glare. “I'm perfectly fine, thank you.”

Crossing Winry was a sure trip to the hospital. They let go of her hands, fast.

Winry put her hands on her lower back, her pregnant belly stuck out like an over-inflated balloon as she bent back.

“What were you two talking about?” She asked when she straightened up. Her eyes went to Edward, the closer of the two.

Edward scrubbed a hand over his hair. “Nothing.”

Crossing her arms in front of her chest made Winry look like she was resting her arms on top of her huge belly.

“I wasn't born yesterday, Edward.” She said, her eyebrows twitching in anger. “You two grin like idiots whenever you're planning some mischief.”

Alphonse sniggered. Winry flashed a glare at him that had him raising his hands in surrender.

Winry slid her eyes from Alphonse back to Edward. “Will this ‘nothing’ going include the destruction of private property?”

“Can't guarantee you that,” Edward joked.

“Edward Elric—!”

Alphonse interrupted Winry before her agitation was transmitted to the twins. “You'll know all about it this evening,” he said.

Winry harrumphed. “You two will never change.” She even rolled her eyes at the brothers just like her son did to them a while ago.

Edward and Alphonse grinned, and that earned then yet another scary glare.

Winry rubbed her lower back with the heels of her hands. “I'm heading back in.” She let out a loud yawn. All the glaring and yelling drained her energy. “No more mischief,” she said, followed by another yawn.

“Yes, ma'am!” They both answered. Edward even raised his hand in perfect military salute.

“Wow!” Winry exclaimed sarcastically. “I bet the Führer would love to know that his training paid off in the end.” She turned to Alphonse. “Right, Al?”

Edward’s face fell, making Winry burst into a laughing fit. Alphonse bit back the urge laugh at his brother’s expense.

Winry wiped off the mirthful tears from the corners of her eyes then turned on a heel and waddled back to the yellow house, stopping every few steps so she could laugh.

Edward frowned. “Laugh all you want, Winry!” He yelled. “Remember that who laughs last, laughs best!” He then turned to his brother. “Al, do you have your camera with you?”

Alphonse nodded. “It's in my luggage.”

Another wolfish grin spread across Edward’s face. “Have it ready for tonight,” he said as he patted his brother’s back.

Because capturing Winry’s expression on film right as he asks her to be his wife, was going to be priceless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG! I finished this! YAY! The Coveted rewrite was supposed to be finished in 2016, of course life happens and it got finished April 2017.
> 
> I only kept 5% of the original ending as I needed to weave in Committed, the companion story for Coveted (I added it to this story as a preview of things to come). Here's a confession: Winry was supposed to have been pregnant in the original concept. I deleted this portion thinking that people would freak out. Here's another confession: The part that describes Edward's past is left to your imagination. All I say is that Edward is a disturbed individual with some "interesting" coping mechanisms in this AU. You will get to see more of this in the companion piece. And no, nothing, and I mean nothing, was supposed to happen between the brothers. Just want to make this clear.
> 
> Will there be a one-shot to tie all stories together? You betcha!
> 
> I will take a sabbatical starting in May and ending in August-September 2017. I'm moving and traveling across the USA by car. It'll be an adventure, that's for sure. My plan for when I come back is to continue working on [Convergence.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/789281/chapters/1490206) I might participate in this years' FMA Big Bang but only if I can write the story before I leave. After that comes Committed, then Insidious...
> 
> Thank you for reading and for all your comments. If I caused you to have a reaction (any reaction) then I did my job right. I hope to hear from you in my future stories!


	20. Committed: Preview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward begins to grasp the consequences of his actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a preview of what will be the companion piece for Coveted. It's set around nine months after the events of Coveted, chapter 18.

It was a cold miserable day in Resembool, a typical day of late February. The small accumulation of snow from prior months turned to slush courtesy of constant drizzle. The bricks in the old train depot sweated in cold beads, like a person who'd contracted the flu. Even the heating fans were having a hard time chasing the chill away.

The cold didn't bother Edward. Maybe the time spent in Briggs gave him the ability to withstand gelid temperatures. Maybe he was too focused on the project at hand to even care.

The side door, the one that faced the train yard, opened with a loud creak.

A woman in her mid twenties stepped inside. Her bouncy ringlets remained intact even with the damp humidity, and the coppery shine in her strawberry blonde hair turned richer under the incandescent lighting. Her baby blue eyes narrowed to a scowl, one that deepened as she made her way around the maze of cables, motor engines, wings and propellers; not an easy feat when wearing high heels. The young woman went around the newest creation, an aircraft that could propel itself up in the air without having to use horizontal velocity to achieve liftoff. The clanking of metal against metal told her she found who she was looking for.

“Good afternoon, Edward,” she said while avoiding tripping over a cable the size of a boa.

Edward, who was working in the cabin, stepped out. “Dori, my dearest assistant!” He said as he approached the young woman, ready to trap her in a bear hug.

Dori sidestepped Edward. “Please don't ruin my clothes.” She then eyed him, her nose curling. “You stink of sweat and grease.”

Edward grinned. “Always so charming, my dear.”

Dori, rolled her eyes. Edward, in turn, gave out a hearty laugh.

“Do you miss me already?” He cooed in a mocking tone just as he grabbed the small towel hanging from one of the back pockets of his gray coveralls. He took his glasses off, hanging them on the collar of his uniform. He then wiped his face and hands with the towel, and brushed away long strands of his fringe that’d gotten stuck to his face.

Dori ignored his facetious comment and went straight to the point. “General Mustang wants to know when the helicopter prototype will be ready for a test run.”

Edward frowned. “I sent him the status report by courier a week ago.”

Dori crossed her arms over her chest. “What I meant to say is that he wants to know if you can make the machine fly sooner rather than later.”

Edward’s upper lip curled into a snarl. He offered his assistant an unintended glare as he walked to the table with the coffee maker. His seething anger made him pick up his mug with excessive force.

He filled the mug almost to the brim then set both the pot and mug on the table. He then glanced Dori’s way. “Do you want some?”

Dori waved her hand, declining the offer.

She watched as her boss drowned the coffee in sugar. A shiver ran up her spine just thinking about the large quantity of empty calories Edward was going to ingest. Pushing those thoughts away, she returned to the task at hand. “The General needs an answer right away.”

The wonderful taste of sweet fresh coffee suddenly turned stale and bitter in Edward’s mouth.

He put the mug down on the table. His brows scrunched up together in an angry scowl. “It's unrealistic and fucking stupid to move the project’s deadline,” he spat.

Dori sighed. “It wouldn't be the first time you speed things up.” She raised a fine brow. “Are you just taking it out on the General because he backed your brother’s entry to the military?”

Edward’s glower told her that she'd hit the mark.

“Alphonse becoming a State Alchemist has nothing to do with this,” he chided.

Dori simply stared, lifting her brows for him to continue. Edward exhaled a frustrated sigh.

“The control system is not working properly,” he groused. “I won't risk a test flight until I manage to calibrate everything.”

Dori tilted her head to the right. “It's that hard, huh?”

Edward nodded. “The maneuverability is not like in an airplane.” He set his eyes on the prototype. “There’s a delicate balance that needs to be achieved in order for the helicopter to maintain proper course.”

Dori tilted her head other other way. “I see…” she said, mumbling. A few seconds later, she added, “The General is not going to be happy about this.”

“Well, he can come here and tell it to my fucking face,” he scoffed.

A smirk slid across Dori’s face. “Duly noted.”

All the telephones in the depot-turned-hangar burst to life making Dori wince.

“Sorry!” Edward shouted above the noise of the ringing telephones. His assistant didn't know that the devices had to be interconnected so any incoming phone calls wouldn't get drown out by the cacophony of power tools, hammering, sawing and welding.

“Let me pick it up. I'm your personal assistant after all!” Dori shouted back.

She hurried to the closest telephone, the one that was mounted on the wall, and picked it up. The silence that followed was a blessing.

Dori cleared her throat. “Good after noon, you've reached A & E Aeronautics East Branch. This is Dorothea Armstrong, how may I direct your call?”

Edward quietly observed his assistant while she handled the call. He raised a questioning eyebrow when he noticed her eyebrows hurdling together, and became worried when she turned her back on him.

Dori mumbled something to the receiver then nodded once before hanging up the phone.

“What is it?” Edward asked, his brow tensing.

Dori turned to him. “It was a Ms. Jonsey. She wants to see you immediately.”

Edward’s foul mood got worse. “Did she tell you why?” He asked, even though he already knew the answer.

She looked down and back up to his eyes. “Your son got into trouble again.”

Edward noticed Dori’s cheerful expression flattening. She, like many others back in Central, were still processing the news about Van’s true kin.

While no one dare to confront him directly on the matter, he was well aware that there were some who took the opportunity to besmirch his name once everything was out in the open. It wasn't surprising though; the people who had it against him were acquainted with Alphonse, and they held him in high regard.

“I better go,” Edward said while walking to the front entrance. He picked his jacket—a well-worn hoodie—from the coat rack hanging from the wall, and put it on.

“Wait, Edward,” Dori called out. “I brought Howard with me. He's waiting in the car.”

Edward should've known that his assistant wasn't going to be traveling by foot around Resembool, especially when she was wearing high heels. _Who fucking wears high heels in the middle of winter?_

“Fine, let’s go. The school isn't far away from here.”

Just when they were about to get blasted by the cold air, Dori stopped, and asked, “Will you also need a ride home?”

Edward also stopped. Giving her a grave look, he said, “I plan to have a long talk with Van while I take him back to his mom’s house.”

Dori’s eyes brimmed sympathy. She was well-aware that Edward and Alphonse’s ex-wife had hit a rough patch, but by the looks of it, they were doing far worse than she'd expected.

“I understand,” she said, offering him a reassuring smile.

What had happened between the Elric brother’s and Mrs. Rockbell was something she normally frowned upon.

Even though she disapproved of their life choice’s, she was putting forth her best effort to comprehend their messy situation.

Because life wasn't always black and white.

 

* * *

 

“We have arrived,” Howard announced as the car came to a stop.

Edward who became lost in thought during the ride to Van's school, turned his attention to the older man.

“Thanks,” he said then shifted his attention to Dori who at the moment was busy filing her nails. “Are you going to return to Central tonight?”

Dori lifted up her baby blue eyes to him. “We still have unfinished business to take care of.”

Edward set his mouth in a flat line. He looked at the time in his wristwatch. Even though he wasn't fond of them, his beat-up wrist watch came in handy while wearing his work uniform.

His eyes met hers. “There’s spare rooms at the Alkahestry School. You can stay in one of them if you like.”

Dori shook her head. “I rented two rooms at the hostel before I came to see you.” Her nose scrunched up as if she was recalling something unsightly. “The place has a rustic charm to it,” she added.

Edward was in such a terrible mood that he didn't feel like making fun of his city-slicker assistant. He looked at the time again. “Let's have a meeting tomorrow at 0800 sharp.”

Right on cue, Howard got out of the car and opened the door for Edward.

“Thanks, Howard.” Edward exited the car without exchanging glances.

“Please take it easy on the boy,” Howard replied as Edward walked away.

Edward glanced over his shoulder. “Don't worry, I will.”

Shortly after, the car roared back to life. Edward didn't turn to wave goodbye. Instead, he sucked in a breath, and prepared himself as if he was going into battle.

 

Beatriz Dillon’s glare welcomed Edward to the classroom.

“It's bad manners to make a lady wait, Mr. Elric,” she snapped at him when he reached the back of the room.

_Lady?_

Edward held his tongue, offering her a toothy smile in return. His gaze moved on to Ms. Jonesey, who quietly stared at him from behind her desk. Blinking slowly, he turned to Van, who sat on a stool nudged against his teacher’s desk. The boy’s golden eyes widened in surprise before narrowing into a look of displeasure.

“Sorry I'm late,” Edward said, flashing a fake smile to the women in the room. “We got a flat tire on our way here and my chauffeur simply refused my help,” he gloated.

Beatriz harrumphed.

The woman looked displeased, envious even. Edward pursed his mouth in a self-satisfying smirk.

Ms. Jonesey cleared her throat. “I believe your assistant filled you in on the situation?”

Edward turned his attention to the teacher. “Van got into a fight with Clayton.” He looked around for Beatriz’s son but couldn't find him.

“Clay, darling, you can come out of hiding now,” Beatriz said, intruding on the conversation.

Clayton stepped into view. He'd been standing behind his mother all this time.

Edward had to clamp down his jaw to prevent himself from laughing. He had nothing against wide-set people, however, he did had a problem with this particular one.

Beatriz placed a hand on her son’s shoulder. Anger rolled off her in waves.

Now that the boy was in full view, Edward noticed the shiner on his right eye. His eyes slid back to Van who had his glued to the floor.

“Your son is an animal!” Beatriz yelled. She snorted outrage when Edward ignored her accusation.

Her hurt pride led her to say, “I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.”

Edward bristled. He flashed her a menacing glare, which she countered with a triumphant smile.

Ms. Jonesey stepped in.

“Bea, please. You know Van’s a good boy,” she said in a serene voice. She waited for Beatriz to calm down before shifting her attention to Edward.

“Van’s just having a hard time adjusting to his”—her lips pressed together in a displeased moue—”new family situation.”

Edward smiled a wry bitter smile.

Sucking in a sharp breath, he said, “The more reason for having understanding and compassion, don't you think?”

Ms. Jonesey looked away while Beatriz gaped like a fish out of water.

Clayton, who had been quietly observing the argument, decided to chime in.

“What about me?” He cried out. His whiny shrilly voice grated the ears of those present, except his mother, who didn't seem to mind his awful voice.

Pointing a finger at Van, Clayton added, “He jumped me and he punched me!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Edward noticed Van gritting his teeth. He turned to Clayton. “Maybe you provoked him?”

Everyone's jaws dropped; Beatriz’s jaw dropped like a cartoon character's.

“How dare you!” She hissed, her mouth now drawn down and snarling.

“Now Bea, please calm down,” Ms. Jonesey interrupted. She looked at Van then at Clayton. “I understand where Mr. Elric is coming from—”

“He hurt me on purpose—I swear!” Clayton shrieked. Beatriz immediately wrapped him in her arms, consoling him as he sobbed in her bosom.

Ms. Jonesey pinched the bridge of her nose and gave out a long exasperated sigh.

After a brief pause, her tired eyes looked up at Edward.

“All the kids saw Van socking Clay during recess.” She turned her gaze to Van. ”He refuses to talk about it.”

Van glanced at his teacher then turned his attention back to the floor like he'd been doing ever since she ordered him to sit.

“Confess you little urchin!” Beatriz snapped.

Edward’s patience was fading faster than Ms. Jonesey’s pharmacy blonde locks.

Just as some colorful expletives were forming in his mouth, Van spoke.

“I wanna go home,” he simply said.

“Then you admit your guilt?” Ms. Jonesey asked.

Van nodded quietly; their eyes never met.

Ms. Jonesey’s shoulders slumped telling Edward that the woman had wanted to believe in Van’s innocence.

After letting out another tired sigh, she said, “You will stay an extra hour everyday for a month to help me tidy up the classroom after classes are over.” She turned to Edward. “Agreed?”

Edward nodded once. “Agreed.”

Now that everything was settled, he approached Van and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let's get you back home.”

Van jerked his shoulder free. His reaction drew out a mocking chuckle from Beatriz.

Van jumped off the stool then dug his hands inside his pants’ front pockets. Beatriz cleared her throat loudly after he took one step forward.

Standing tall, and with a derisive smile curving her thin painted lips, she barked, “You can't leave until you say ‘sorry’ to my son.”

Van stopped. When he turned around, he saw his father and Clayton’s mother shooting each other death glares. A low growl followed.

“Listen you—!” Edward gritted between his teeth. He was about to dump all of his frustrations on this godawful woman when Van walked past him.

Van stopped mere inches away from Clayton’s face. He clutched his mother’s thick arm while trying to put some distance between himself and Van.

“I'm sorry,” Van said flatly then turned around and headed towards the exit.

The boy’s bunched up shoulders and stomping didn't go unnoticed.

Edward also took his leave without saying another word.

 

“Wait up!”

Van paused a mere fraction before continuing his walk. Edward growled.

“I said wait-up, dammit!” The warning tone in his voice finally got through the boy.

Edward had to jog to reach Van.

“You gave Clay quite the shiner,” he mentioned, and took a mental note when Van bristled. His son’s sullen expression hadn't changed much since leaving the school premises.

“You know,” Edward began, a smug smile spread across his face, “If it would've been me, I would've given him another one to match.”

Van stopped on his tracks, staring at Edward with a shocked look on his face.

Edward’s smile grew wider. “The little punk deserves it”—he winked—”am I right?”

Van opened his mouth to say something but shut it. He looked away, first casting his eyes to the side and then to the ground. He even dug his hands inside his pants’ front pockets like he did back at school.

Edward’s expression went neutral after sensing the boy’s mortification. “You didn't do anything wrong,” he reassured him.

Clayton Dillon was a good actor for his young age. He might've fooled his teacher and own his mother but he couldn't fool him. During the meeting, he caught the boy taking high pleasure out of a situation he undoubtedly created.

“You defended yourself as you sought fit,” Edward reasoned. Chuckling softly, he added, “I'm proud of you.”

The word “son” wanted to make it past the tip of his tongue but Edward held it back. These past few months had been rough on Van and he surely didn't want to add more more stress to his life because of selfish sentimentality. _The right time would come…_ Edward was sure of it.

Van raised his eyes at him, the glint in them spoke volumes. Edward hadn't seen that radiant expression since the day he found out Van was his son.

Could it be? Was this the breakthrough he’d been hoping for? But just as Edward was beginning to process this most awaited moment, everything veered off course.

Like Resembool’s weather during summer—sunshine one minute, stormy the next—Van’s expression went from bright to glum.

With his gaze fixed forward, the boy muttered, “It wouldn't change anything.”

Edward frowned.

“How long has Clay been bullying you?” He asked, his growing concern evident in his demanding tone.

Van gasped in surprise; a pause followed.

“He’s not bullying me,” he spat, sticking to his answer even though his eyes had betrayed his words.

The sight of Van’s brimming tears brought a deep ache to Edward's chest.

Silence fell over them.

Edward knew he had to say something, he was the adult here, but—

An image of his own father flashed across his mind. _Was this how Hohenheim felt?_ Edward shook away the thought. He moved to a better parental figure: his brother. How would Alphonse approach this situation? Would his brother simply ask what had happened? Would he have pressed Van into telling the truth? Would he have let Winry handle it?

Edward bit back a curse. “What did he say to you?”

The boy kept his gaze glued to the ground.

“Did he hit you first? Was he hurting someone else?” Edward pressed on but each question was deflected by Van’s adamant silence.

Edward gnashed his teeth in frustration, his patience wearing thin. “Van—!” He snapped, but rest of his words were lost as Van sprang into a run, leaving him behind.

“Van, stop!” Edward yelled a few times. “Fuck!” he spat when it became clear that the boy wasn't stopping.

Edward pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. _Honestly, this shouldn't be this fucking hard._

Tucking his hands in the front pockets of his hoodie, Edward followed the path that led to the yellow house.

 

* * *

 

Dina, the newest member of their fucked-up family, rushed to greet Edward halfway between the road and Rockbell Automail.

“Hi, girl,” Edward greeted the young pup, who sprang back and barked excitedly. Dina gave another enthusiastic bark as she charged Edward. “Enough, girl!” His words earned him quite a licking.

Edward rubbed vigorously the sides of Dina’s snowy coat. The dog placed her heavy paws one on each of his shoulders. Her round obsidian eyes begged him to pick her up. Edward caved in, and in a one-two, he heaved her up.

Winry’s yelling cut through the warm moment.

Edward let the dog down.

He walked the rest of the way to the yellow house with Dina by his side.

 

“Van—!” Winry growled. “What is the matter with you?”

Van looking away, ignoring his mother. This only made things worse for him.

“Look at me when I'm talking to you!” Winry snapped.

Sensing movement, Van lifted his head. Winry imitated her son, gazing in the direction he was looking.

Dina reached the porch first announcing Edward's arrival with her barking.

Winry’s brow tensed and her lips curled with displeasure.

“He won't say a thing,” Edward offered when he was within earshot.

Winry turned to her son, ignoring his comment. “You can't be punching other kids just because!” She admonished.

Edward noticed the subtle shaking of his son’s clenched fists. _Why was he being so stubborn?_ “Van,” he called out to the boy. “I promise you that we won't get mad at you.” His gaze swung to Winry, his eyes telling her to follow along. He then turned his attention back to Van, and added, ”We just want the best for you, son.”

Edward winced, realizing his slip.

Van’s transformation was instant. The mask of indifference was off and a snarl peered from behind.

Van raised his head high, showing Edward his fierce golden eyes. “Don't call me that!” He screeched with thunderous force.

Winry blinked. She tried to put her hand gently on his shoulder to calm him down, but Van shook her hand off. He even went as far as to putting some distance between them.

Winry’s eyebrows pinched together. Before she had time to voice her concerns, Van cut her off.

“Clay called you a whore, that's why I punched him!” He cried. Then focusing all of his anger on Edward, he screamed, “This is all your fault!”

Van turned on his heel and ran inside the house. Both Edward and Winry caught a glimpse of the tears that ran down his face.

Edward was stunned. _What the fuck is wrong with kids these days?_ He'd been expecting to hear something different, definitely something much more innocent. _Whore?_ He’d been barely sixteen when he first heard of that word. There was no doubt in his mind that the Dillon boy explained to Van what the word “whore” meant. _What a messed up kid…_

Winry’s trembling breath brought Edward back to the moment.

She had her back turned to him but even from that angle he could see that her left hand was fisting in her clothes.

He drew in a harsh breath. “Winry…”

Her shoulders stiffened upon hearing her name. The same hand that had been clutching her clothes was now busy wiping away tears. Shortly after she turned around.

“Thank you for bringing Van here,” Winry said, her voice had lost most of its edge. Despite the humiliation, she held her head up high.

Edward flashed her a tight smile. “You can always count on me, Win.”

Her cold indifference took a stab at him.

Sensing the rift between them widening, he said, “You don't have to do this alone.”

Winry’s glare bore through Edward.

“Thank you again, Ed.” Winry forced a smile for the sake of being polite. “You can go now.” She then turned around and walked inside the house. She didn't even bother to wait for Edward to say something in return.

Winry let the screen door slam shut behind her.

After the briefest of pauses, Edward tucked hands inside the pockets of his hoodie. He turned around and took off.

Dina attempted to engage Edward play while he walked to the main road, but after a couple of rejections she got discouraged. With her head hanging low like Edward’s, Dina turned around and slowly made her way back to the house.

 

Edward reached the main road, he brought his right hand out of his hoodie and read the time on his wristwatch. It was too early to call it a day. He frowned. With all that'd happened that afternoon, he didn't feel like working with control panels.

Edward took a left instead of a right and followed the road until the sign of Alphonse’s Alkahestry School came into view. He scoffed bitterly as he walked past the sign, hating himself for taking up residency in a place he detested. At least he made damn sure to stock up the pantries with all types of liquor before he started living there.

He wasn't a habitual drinker but his alcohol intake had increased considerably in the last few months. And tonight he was getting hammered.

His thoughts went to Dori. Knowing his assistant, she probably was going to hit the bar next to the hostel when the hour hand pointed exactly to four.

He considered giving her a call once he reached Alphonse’s place, hardly doubting she would decline the offer of free booze. He was almost certain that Howard, after some buttering up, would join them too.

A rueful smile spread across his face. Who was he kidding? The great Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People, and beloved philanthropist would never let anyone see him drown his sorrows in alcohol. The only person he would let see him in such pathetic state was the same person who put him there in the first place.

“Alphonse…” Edward mumbled. “You were supposed to be there for Winry and Van—” _What happened?_

His eyes narrowed.

Heartbreak, bitterness and resentment; was this how things were supposed to end up for all of them? Fearing the answer, Edward pushed the thought out of his mind and kept walking.

Minutes later, cold rain fell from the low gray sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first finished Coveted, some of you guys asked me for a sequel. Others asked me for a happier ending. I must admit, I was afraid of tackling the fallout from Coveted but not anymore. And that's how Committed came to be. This companion piece will be as angsty as the first. It's Edward's time to share his thoughts and he will share all of his thoughts. More canon characters will make an appearance and I'll introduce some interesting OCs. The story will be explicit, just as Coveted.
> 
> Photograph by Ed Sheeran is song that inspired this companion piece.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading.


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